High Steaks (Freelance Familiars Book 3)

by Daniel Potter

  I dashed forward, low to the ground as her eyes started to roll back. Rudy gave a squeak of surprise as I swung myself around, slamming the length of my body into hers. "Hold on, Alice, you're doing fine. Almost done."

  Alice shuddered against me, emitting a low moan of pain and grief. "I didn't-" A sob tried to strangle her, but she choked it back. "Gods, Thomas."

  She leaned against me, and I had to extend my claws to keep myself from being pushed by her bulk. Her head hung low, and she sobbed. Giant watery rivers traced a flow down her muzzle and dripped from the edge of her nose to darken the concrete. Yet while she cried, the herd stirred and began to move. A pair of goats stepped forward and pulled the blanket back over Jet's face. The Stables had one carriage given to the community as a possible way to employ the horses. Not many of them liked the idea, but two of them volunteered to be hitched to it. The rest cursed and swore as they tried to figure out how to hook it up with hooves and mouths. A rooster named Carl and Becca the chicken were recruited for the knotwork. So it was for the rest of the Stables, clusters breaking up to figure out how to make it better.

  Through it all, Alice cried, interspersed with heavy sniffs that bubbled through the rivers of mucus that flowed from her nostrils. A crying cow was not a pretty sight.

  A motley assortment of people - the donkey, a sheep, a ram, and three chickens - came up to me. "Who did this?" the ram demanded. I did not know his name, but from his tone, I guessed he had been the boss of something before. I eyed them carefully.

  "A vampire," Alice answered before I could decide how much to tell them. A pair of sheep held a handkerchief to her nose, and she blew it. "Same one that got my boyfriend," she said, climbing back onto her feet.

  I stepped away from Alice. "Feeling better?"

  "Not really. We're all sitting ducks down here, Thomas. I hate being at the mercy of whatever these things are!"

  "They're called Tikoloshe," I said. "They feed on grief. I imagine it's fat and happy at the moment." A deep and bitter growl sounded from my chest, and I couldn't keep Doug's smug face out of my mind's eye.

  Grace gasped. "No!"

  Do not talk about this out loud! I practically roared through the link. Anger at myself channeled over to her, and Grace shivered as if I'd punched her in the gut. Sorry, I sent immediately afterward. It was too late to put that secret back in the box now.

  Grace instinctively reached for her anchor. Not enough to go full elf, but her build thinned and lengthened so I could see the Pikachu-yellow socks. Apparently no stranger to this, one hand went to her waistband, keeping her pants from falling. Alice looked up, and the small group in front of us whirled to face her, all hearing the distinct tone of magic. Dougie wouldn't do this! He's not a monster. He's... nice. When Ceres isn't around, Grace thought at me, but she could see how narrow her experience was. She'd seen how Doug treated others below him in the food chain.

  I don't have proof of it, Grace. That's why I haven't told anyone here, and I want it to stay that way, I thought, and she saw how many angry eyes were on her.

  "Who's the kid magus, Thomas?" Alice asked after a heavy snuffle.

  I stepped in front of the wannabe lynch herd and beelined to Grace. Circling around the girl, I gave her a little shove towards Alice. "This is Grace, a very talented apprentice magus. How'd you two like to try being bonded for the next week or so?"

  "WHAT?!" The identical thought ranged out of both girls, although Alice's had a note of hope in it while Grace's rang with terror.

  Grace's mind shifted from Doug to pure indignation. Thomas, she's a cow! Cows are no good for magic at all! They can't do spell crafting! Grace's mind happily supplied dozens of reasons as to why a magus of her pedigree needed a cat or an owl.

  I gave her a sly side-eye. You came here to offer yourself as a hostage? Well, this is how we do that. This is a cage that even Ceres cannot break. It's not foolproof, so listen. "O'Meara, could you please explain to these two what a fey chain is?"

  "Finally," Rudy piped up as O'Meara fished the chain out of her bag. "We get to the point of this visit."

  "Patience, Rudy." O'Meara admonished as she spread the silver chain between her hands. Both Alice and Grace drifted closer, as well as a few Stables residents who had not been swept up in preparations for Jet's funeral. It was a simple and plain chain with metal collars at both ends. The runes inscribed on the collars shone silver and purple in my vision. "This is a fey chain. It is similar to the one that Thomas originally bonded me with. They are the template that allowed Merlin to create the bonding process. It creates a familiar-magus bond between two people who wear the collars, which can be made and broken at will."

  "Why don't they use them all the time, then?" Grace asked. "If we have these, then why the heck is Thomas special?"

  "I'm getting to that," O'Meara assured her. "The trouble is that bonds are fragile. If the collars are damaged, the link will be severed, and both parties will still suffer the effects of a broken bond."

  "And that hurts?" Alice ventured.

  O'Meara gave a half shrug. "Not nearly as much as a normal bond, but... let's say the sun won't shine as brightly for a week or two. You will survive," said the woman whose head was a mess of repressed memories and who had endured the severing of six or more bonds.

  "Course, that's where I can help. If I'm alive to do so. My bond is a bit different and usually completely painless." To demonstrate, I gently disentangled Mr. Bitey from Grace's mind and pulled him back. Mr. Bitey's silver chain spooled into his cobra form. He showed off his body, composed of interwoven jeweler's chain, those ruby eyes that glowed with a malicious humor. Both girls gave a note of surprise, Alice stumbling back while Grace whirled, almost dancing until she was safely behind Alice. The girls' wide eyes were near mirrors in expression.

  I smiled at the pair as I went to stand by O'Meara's side. "This is Mr. Bitey. He is my bond. He was created from a fey chain by a dragon." Grace, who knew what a dragon actually was, reached up to probe her scalp beneath her thick hair, as if feeling for fang marks. Alice, for her part, leaned forward, nostrils flaring, attempting to catch Mr. Bitey's scent. "With him, I can bond anyone I like, as long as I have permission."

  I bonded O'Meara, a sensation of slipping on a very comfortable glove. We sighed together, and a tenseness that I hadn't realized had been there abruptly left. Fingers found my ears, and I rubbed a bit of scent on her hip.

  Miss me? she asked.

  I always feel better with a magus I can hide behind. The thought earned me a playful swat. Rudy made a choking noise.

  I turned back to Alice and Grace. "I can bond whether or not you already have a bond. So I can soften the blow. If I'm around." Grace's lips had become a thin line, no doubt asking herself how far Ceres would go to spare her pain. Grace had been trained to endure pain, both physical discomfort and emotional. This would be a thin line, more of a petty "F-you" to Ceres than a serious speed bump on her way to getting Ghenna's little black book.

  An idea sparked in O'Meara's mind. "Once you're bonded, Thomas and I will disguise the fey-collar bond as a real one. You'll have to avoid close scrutiny of the bond, but the illusion should hold for a few days," she explained despite having no idea if we could accomplish it or not.

  Grace began to nod. I had expected Alice to begin to question this now. After all, she didn't know what I was getting her into. But Alice's ears were perked, and her eyes flicked between me and Grace behind her. Her tongue parted the side of her muzzle. This would be her only shot at becoming a familiar and leaving the Stables.

  Venturing out from behind Alice, Grace took the fey chain from O'Meara's hand, her expression so unreadable that I wished I hadn't broken with her so quickly.

  "How does it wor-" The fey chain leapt out from O'Meara's hands, metal collar opened wide like a pair of jaws. Grace's form blurred as she bent backward, her aura flaring as she moved with supernatural speed. A tornado of dark limbs, blue energy, and silver chain whirled for several seconds
before the click of a latch sounded. Grace reappeared, panting, the collar secured around her neck, the other collar tightly gripped between both hands. Shaking hands.

  Rudy chuckled. "I guess we're done talkin'."

  "What the hell?" Grace panted.

  "They get a bit frisky when they've been stored for a while," O'Meara said.

  Alice stepped forward. "My turn."

  Grace's head moved as if it was on a pivot. "What? But—"

  "Do it. Bind me. Help me with the funeral, and then I'm all yours. As long as you want me." Alice hopped from side to side, excitement shining from her eyes.

  "This can't last, you know. Ceres..."

  Alice moved closer, stretching out her neck to accept the collar. "Ain't here. Give me a shot. Please, Grace. You're the only chance I'm going to get now that Trevor's gone. Help Thomas out and give me a week. Don't make me beg."

  Grace's fist tightened around the collar and then relaxed. With a flick of her wrist, the collar clicked around Alice's neck.

  Both froze, their eyes sharing a surprised, dazed expression. "Oh." Their lips moved in unison. "I never knew." Grace's arms enveloped Alice's neck, and the two sank down to the floor. "This isn't like Thomas at all."

  Bloody ashes. They're a good match, O'Meara thought as we watch the pair's cuddle grow tighter.

  Isn't that what always happens the first time? I remembered the way O'Meara and I had flowed into each other. "Bonding haze," you termed it.

  Next thing I knew, I was in a headlock and on the receiving end of a fierce noogie.

  "Oh, cut it out, you two! We still have work to do!" Rudy cried. O'Meara's sudden move caught him in the crook of her elbow.

  33

  Not a Stupid Plan?

  The Capy Bros were parked outside our office as we rolled in. I almost missed the fellas; riding in the back of O'Meara's Porsche felt like a sardine can in comparison. "We going somewhere, Rudy?" I asked the squirrel.

  "Nope, you guys stay here and out of trouble. Ya know, lie low, and don't get any more magi dreaming about mounting your head on a wall. You too, O'Meara! I'll be back tomorrow," Rudy said as O'Meara pulled into the parking spot beside the limo. It also had its driver window rolled down.

  The Capy bro tipped his tiny hat at Rudy. "You rang, sir?" the capybara whistled.

  "Yep!" Rudy leapt into the limo's cab.

  The capybara squeaked in surprise and tried to block Rudy's entrance to the limo's cab, but his stubby forelimbs were not made for catching anything, let alone squirrels. "Sir! Passengers are not allowed up front!" the capybara nearly screamed, his voice high with scandalized hysteria.

  "Oh! Huh!" Rudy had disappeared down below the frame of the door, so I could not see his expression, but I recognized that timbre from the time he had walked in on Noise and me during a play session. "Uh, you guys aren't actually brothers, then?"

  "Passengers in the back!" a second voice barked. No whistling tone there but the biting accent of New York.

  "Okay, okay!" I caught a blur of gray as Rudy leapt over the seat and into the back of the limo. "Sheesh!"

  O'Meara and I managed to hold it together until the capybara rolled up the window before cracking up. Leave it to Rudy to discover things everyone would rather not know. The limo left the parking lot with an indignant squeal of tires and angry revving of the engine.

  We were still chuckling about Rudy's "Uh, you guys aren't actually brothers, then?" as O'Meara and I cleared a workspace on the floor and started to develop a plan on how to actually survive for twenty-four hours with a dozen magi and their servants chasing us. I doubted having a plan would survive two minutes' contact with that many magi, but we had an hour's head start. If we walked into that casino pulling wagons heaped with tass, O'Meara could probably convince even Ceres that taking us on would be a bad idea. Failing that, we needed backup plans and bolt holes.

  If we faced anyone with Ceres's access to tass, any ward we could hide behind would be undone. It'd be like gift-wrapping myself in a really well-taped box: really tough to get into until you break out a box cutter. So we focused on staying mobile. Thankfully, Google Maps provided excellent planning materials. They'd all expect us to use the flood tunnels, so we'd use O'Meara's car instead. We couldn't leave the city limits, but those didn't say how high or how deep, and while those magi would certainly be packing fire wards, we'd see how well they could swim in lava.

  After plotting our escape route, the next bit was fixing O'Meara's car with a series of wards and installing tass-laden cables throughout its structure. Fortunately, the cables were all there already, but the Inquisition had stripped all the magic out of them. Threading it back in took us... well, I remember waking up in the morning in the back seat of the car, so we worked until my eyes refused to open, at least. A breakfast of bacon, sausage, eggs, and a side of bewildered staring from our waitress later, we got back to the office about eleven.

  "Where have y'all been?" Rudy chittered as O'Meara and I entered the office. He sat on the desk, tail twitching in all directions. I hadn't seen him this amped up since he'd eaten a bag of chocolate-covered coffee beans.

  "Fixing up O'Meara's car so it can tunnel beneath the city," I said, knowing the squirrel wouldn't hear a word of it.

  "Cool, whatever! I got stuff you're not even gunna believe!" Rudy bounded back and forth on the desk. "Come on, come on, come on! Both of ya, sit down!"

  O'Meara gave a small chuckle as we obeyed the tiny rodent. "Wait, how juicy is this, Rudy? Should Thomas and I throw up an anti-eavesdropping ward?"

  Rudy glanced around the room. The building had been warded while I had been on assignment with Veronica, so I didn't actually know who Rudy had had make them. Chipmunk wizards, for all I knew.

  "Yeah, do that first!" Rudy said with a vigorous nod. "You can't be too paranoid in Vegas." My own thoughts went to a certain invisible cougar. I scanned the room for any hint of her while O'Meara and I set up a spell that would block any extra ears.

  "Okay, Rudy, what you got?" I asked, settling against O'Meara's side, her meaty arm encircling my neck.

  "What I got? I got all the nuts in Cali!" He held up his paws, palms out. "Ground rules, though! I got this intel solely through my own genius effort. Nobody else was involved. Nobody."

  I nodded. "The same way you transplanted an oak tree from a pocket realm into the office?"

  "Precisely! I'm a scary magic squirrel with powers beyond the ken of mortals," Rudy said.

  "Who runs up and down the world tree?"

  "No comment. You want the intel or not?" Rudy rubbed his paws together.

  Confusion rolled in over my link with O'Meara, but I let her stew in it. I didn't want to explain that I suspected that there were lots more talking rodents than the magi knew of and that Rudy might be the rodent equivalent of a demigod with or without his Merlin association. He seemed to get the strangest things done without anybody looking. "Right, Rudy's nutastic," I conceded.

  "Hey! No stealing my puns!"

  O'Meara shrugged. "Why do I get the feeling this will be much more impressive than when I employed you?"

  "Cause it is!" Rudy swung his phone off his back. Even his ego couldn't contain his need to show us what he found. After a moment of fiddling with it, he flipped it around to display a photograph of a hole in a wall of concrete. Next to it, clinging to the concrete, was Rudy himself. With the squirrel for scale, I judged the hole to be about four inches wide. "That hole goes directly into one of Lansky's tass processors."

  "Wait, wait!" I held up a paw. "You want us to go after Lansky's vault? Why not Ceres's?" Not that Feather couldn't stand to be taken down a peg, but I'd much rather have her attempting to save me than trying to kill me. I suspect she'd be much better at killing me.

  "You said you wanted to make it look like the dragon did it, right? So we gotta hit all the vaults that have tass in them. Morganna's vault probably doesn't have much in it, so that's a no-go. Ceres stores her tass in a pipe system that carries it throu
gh the entire Luxor, so there isn't a focal spot we can hit. To get at that, we'll need enough oomph to make the entire building disappear. Death's defenses are simple but deadly; we trip anything there and the big D himself shows up instantly. Again, not somebody you want to take on without more than a little something in your pocket. Got it, boss?"

  "So that leaves Lansky by process of elimination." O'Meara did not sound like she liked the idea. "And he's happened to leave a squirrel-sized hole in one of his vaults? That does not sound like something the banker of the magi world would do."

  "You're not listening! It goes to the processing plant. Lansky doesn't have one casino. He's got a dozen. He siphons off the phantasms of Vegas to use for whatever he does to harvest tass from gamblers." Rudy swiped his hand over the screen, and a map appeared. O'Meara leaned in to examine it. I crowded behind her eyes for the crisper colors. A map of the tunnels, a network of purple lines following along each flood tunnel. "You know why the Grantsville folks aren't drowning in phantasms down in the tunnels? Cuz Lansky is draining off the stuff that makes them. He's tapped an entire shallowing like a maple tree."

  I followed the lines; they pooled underneath several casinos, one of which would be the Circus Circus. A line leading into it was circled.

  Rudy tapped the circle. "Somebody screwed up digging the tunnel, or it wasn't doing the flood control job well enough. Either way, they broke this line, and nobody fixed it. The alarm wards are all triggered, have been alarming for years. Nobody's done anything about it."

  Licking my lips, I thought of all that unused lab space. "Lansky hasn't done his own magic in years. So an underling must have gotten lazy."

  O'Meara breathed out in amazement. "So it's free shot all the way into his processing... if you can fit into a four-inch hole. I could make a shrinking spell, but it's going to take me and Thomas who knows how long to find a plane that can shrink us to that size. That's not something I'm good at."