“Fine,” I pulled back and paced to the living room. “We can’t go in the dining room, it’s a crime scene still.”
“Huh?” He stopped in front of the couch.
I shook my head and took up perch on the arm of the loveseat. “Nevermind. Sit. Explain.”
“Well, I knew about you before you ever decided to come here, remember? I wanted your help to get Elena back. When I heard you were coming here, I had to get you to agree to help. But you wouldn’t give me the time of day in that bar.”
He paused, scrunched his forehead, then took a seat on the couch. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands.
“I remember. I had a job to do and you were cute, but a little over-eager.” I almost laughed at the memory, but stopped myself. “Go on.”
“When you walked out of that bar, I wanted to chase after you, but I knew you’d bolt. Through the grimy window, I watched you in your car, just sitting there. So, I came up with a different plan.”
“To lure me away and steal my package, you mean.” I picked at my fingernails with the tip of my blade. Who needed a manicure when you had carbon steel on tap?
He nodded, sighed. “Yes. I thought if I could just get you to listen to me, you’d help me and we’d both get what we wanted. Is that wrong?”
“Yes. I don’t like being lied to. And I don’t like being intimidated. You could have just asked me dammit.” I stabbed my blade into the cutting board and shot him my best mean mug.
It was Dane’s turn to look confused. “Intimidated? I didn’t…”
I quirked an eyebrow, narrowed my eyes. “No? You didn’t try to scare me off with a cloud of black fog in that alley?”
He shook his head and blinked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. By the time you stepped around that corner I was already half-way back to your car.”
“How do I know you’re not lying. Again?” I wanted to believe him, but I’d already been a sucker once, I wasn’t about to go back for seconds.
He stood, crossed over to stand in front of me and held out his hands. I let him pull me up to a standing position, knowing full well he was sucking me back in. I barely cared.
“Because,” he said, pushing my hair back from my face. “I didn’t really lie. I told you if you helped me, I’d tell you where to find your package. I just left out the part that it was in my possession.”
“As if that makes it okay,” I countered, stepping back to put more space between us.
He closed the distance between us once more. “Normally I’d agree. But in this case, nobody was hurt by the omission. But someone could be if we don’t find her.”
“The end justifies the means, you’re saying?” It was hard to argue that, but I wanted to. I was not giving in so quickly.
Dane canted his head down, so close our noses almost touched. His lips parted, “Yes, exactly.”
He was so going to kiss me. My heart sped up, but my brain slowed down. Not giving in, I reminded myself. I stepped away from his embrace.
“Well, I’m not sure I care much about the ends anymore.” I pulled my blade from it’s perch on the cutting board and sheathed it cleanly.
Sighing, I shook my head at him, slowly to show my disappointment, then left the room without another word. Let him stew on that one for a while. I’d spent hours thinking about his betrayal earlier, so he deserved to toss and turn for the same amount of time.
Maybe in the morning light I’d be ready to forgive Dane, but in the dark I was more likely to do far dirtier things. Neither of which was on the agenda, so I carried my ass to bed.
I heard the front door slam as I laid my head on the pillow.
Closing my eyes, I smiled.
11
The house was silent when I woke the next morning. Not a mouse stirred, nor a grumpy incubus with a white-lie habit. I stumbled out to the kitchen wearing a pair of yoga pants and a ratty concert tee.
Coffee. I needed Coffee.
But there wasn’t any brewed, for the first time since I’d been there. I scowled, pissed at Dane all over again, sure that he’s done it just to irritate me. I won’t even pretend I wouldn’t have done the same to him, so whatever.
It took me twenty minutes, but I finally figured out how to work his fancy-schmancy brewing station and fix myself a passable cup of coffee. I won’t say it tasted good, but it opened my eyes a few clicks, so the effort wasn’t wasted.
Cup in hand, I wandered around his place, spinning my wheels. Sifting through all of the research again, I hoped we might have missed something. We didn’t that I could see.
I spied Clive’s package still sitting on the counter where I’d left it the night before. That was one thing I could do, I thought and grabbed the box and my car keys before heading outside.
Unlocking my clunky-junker, I considered where to hide the package for safe keeping. Not in the false bottom of the trunk—that was already full of long guns, ammunition and wasn’t deep enough to stow the box anyway. That left one of the compartments inside the car itself.
It couldn’t go under the passenger seat, it was there that I kept things I needed to get my hands on quickly. Extra clips for my Sig’s, a flashlight heavy enough to bash a skull in, a brick of cash in case the worst happened, and I found myself in want of a getaway.
That left under the flip-up cushion of the driver’s seat, or the small lockbox under a floormat in the back. I opted for under the driver’s seat and lifted the cushion from the backside. It hinged up to reveal rejiggered steel around a hollow big enough to hold at least two packages the size of the one I held in my hands.
Perfect. I settled the box into its new home, lowered the seat cushion and locked my car up tight. The sun was in my face as I turned back to the house and I thought, not for the first time, how much it must suck to be one of those fanged bastards that can’t feel the warmth of the sun on their skin. But then I remembered my mom was one of those unlucky suckers and I lost my sympathy.
I grumbled to myself and went back into the house. Stopped inside the door and looked around. I’d managed to kill ten minutes of the day. Now, what to do with the other five-hundred and some?
I checked the time on my phone. I definitely wasn’t checking to see if Dane had called. That would mean I was worried. And I wasn’t. He was a big boy and if he wanted to go off and stew he could have at it. No skin off my shin.
Only it kind of was. We had a mission, a rescue to get underway. And he was wasting my time. Time that would be better spent driving back to Clive’s to deliver the package I was hired to retrieve.
What had he done for me, other than give me indigestion?
Oh, he’d promised to pay, but then again lying did seem to be in his nature. He was probably counting on the fact that I’d be caught up in doing the right thing and forget all about payment. Well, he didn’t know me very well if that was his plan.
My cell chirped and I snatched it up without looking at the screen.
“Quinn,” I answered.
“Well it’s about time you picked up? Where are you?”
My mother. Fuck me.
“I’m kind of busy right now, can I call you back?”
“Nope. Not until I get some answers.”
I groaned, rolled my eyes. Not that she could see me. “Look, I’m fine. Just helping out a friend. I’ll be home in a few days and we’ll talk then, assuming you’ll be there.”
My mom growled. Yeah, she did that when I crossed her many lines. I did it often, just for sport. That was our relationship in a nutshell.
“It’s so funny how you think you’re all grown up.” She countered.
I scrunched up my face and tried to come up with a witty comeback. But I was tired and my heart really wasn’t into it.
“Cute. Did you need something? Or can you cross busting my balls off your To-Do list and call it a day?” That was the best I could muster.
It sounded a bit like she laughed, which made me crack the tiniest smile.
�
��Can you at least tell me you’re safe and not out doing something stupid?” she said.
I decided to throw her a bone. “I’m fine. I’m not doing anything stupid.”
At the moment, anyway.
“I’ll take your word for it. Be safe, okay.”
“Fine. Later.” I cut the connection and blew a long breath out.
The one good thing the conversation with my mother had accomplished—making me forget I was worried about Dane.
If I called him first, he’d win, right?
Hours had passed, more so if he hadn’t been home at all since he stormed out the night before. That had me worried more than I’d like to admit. And worry led me to another crazy thought… what if Dane had decided to go after Elena on his own?
But that was crazy. As far as I knew he didn’t know anything more than I did. Even if he’d had that cocked-up idea, he didn’t have anywhere to start.
So, it wasn’t likely. Which meant I was back to my original idea that he was pissed at me and off throwing some sort of man-tantrum. I rolled my eyes and flopped onto the couch.
Finally, I caved and sent Dane a text. He didn’t respond. Not right away, not five minutes later, and not way too many hours later. Something was wrong, I just knew it... and I had a feeling it was all my fault.
The last time we’d spoken I’d let him believe that I was done helping him find Elena. I didn’t think he’d take me seriously, but maybe he had. If so, I was willing to bet he’d gone off to find Elena alone. The trouble with that theory was this: was he avoiding me just because, or was he in some sort of trouble himself?
I paced the living room. I wore a groove in the kitchen floor. Ate a whole damn pizza by myself. And then I realized I didn’t have any more time to waste. I had to find Dane. I picked up my cell and sent a quick text to my hacker buddy.
Me: 911. I need a location on my wayward incubus.
Staring at my phone, I willed the screen to show me some good news, dammit. But I wasn’t quite that lucky.
HackerTee: His phone is off. Not trackable until he powers it back on. Might be able to give you his last ping. Stand by.
While I waited, I checked my emails. That was fun. Between overdue bills, notifications from social media from people I didn’t give two shits about, and the odd reminder from my old college, I’d have been better off to just delete them all unseen.
My phone trilled with an address and I sent back a “owe you one” text in return. I really meant it, not that HackerTee would ever call in the debt. He was just that kind of guy.
I slid behind Dane’s laptop and quickly mapped the address. Downtown, old warehouse and industrial district, with about a two-block error margin. That wasn’t good enough. I switched to street view and panned around the area, hoping something would jump out at me. It did.
The ornate brick building seemed familiar even though it appeared to have been abandoned decades earlier. I couldn’t put my finger on what about it prodded me at first, then I made the connection. I gasped and wiggled in my chair.
To confirm, I pulled up my earlier email from HackerTee and located the folder on Dawn Shiller. I scrolled through the images of her pet projects until I found what I was looking for. There it was. She’d petitioned to have the building added to the national register of historic places. The campaign was still active, but had taken a back seat to several more prominent buildings. So… out of sight, out of mind?
It couldn’t be a coincidence Dane’s cell pinged by a building tied to the case.
I slammed the laptop shut and went to gear up. It was the best lead we’d had so far, and I wasn’t going to let the dust settle on it. No, I was going to find Dane in that building and maybe even Elena. Somehow, I knew it in my bones.
And these bones don’t lie.
12
I found the neighborhood where Dane’s phone had last pinged and parked my car on a side street, just out of view. Exiting my car, I took stock of my surroundings. Old buildings, warehouses or manufacturing plants most likely. Little in the way of car traffic and not a single soul could be seen on the streets.
Only a handful of cars dotted the area, but none were Dane’s. I wasn’t surprised. Nothing about any of it had been simple, so why should that change now, I thought.
My only lead was the building that Shiller had championed for. It was the only thing connected to our search for Elena, even if in a roundabout way, so I might as well start there.
I crossed the street quickly and headed east. I could just make out the building up on my left, so it had to be several blocks away still. Which meant I had to spend a lot of time out in the open. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t exactly have a choice either.
Hustling to my destination, I clung to the shadows and hugged the edges of buildings, just to be safe. My eyes moved constantly, searching for movement or threats. But the streets were quiet.
Several blocks later, I reached the building in question.
It was three stories high, made of crumbling red brick with rows and rows of multi-paned glass windows circumventing the upper floors. Not a single pane of glass could be seen on the first floor, not even on the wide, carved wooden door, which sat front and center.
It was a beautiful building. I totally understood why Dawn Shiller wanted it saved. There’s a lost grandness, a sadness of time moving on, with buildings such as that one. And they always made me nostalgic, no idea why though.
I sighed and looked again, with a more tactical eye. The front door had no glass, no street-level windows I could peek into, I had to hope there was another entrance, because walking in the main point of ingress wouldn’t be the smartest thing.
Deciding to look around back, I paced down a wide alley until I found what I was looking for—a huge metal door. Rust covered the chipping beige paint, especially around the small hazy window, set above eye level for me. I was going to need something to stand on.
I turned, scanned the alley for a crate or something to help a short girl out.
The sound of shuffling feet stopped me cold. I looked around for a place to hide and found a smelly dumpster. Stepping behind it for cover, I peeked back to the side door in time to see it open slowly, like whoever was on the other side was being cautious.
Time slowed. The door crept open, a millimeter at a time. Then I caught movement in the form of a black leather boot stepping carefully beyond the door frame. It hung there, still and patient.
I was about to lose my patience, thanks in part to the flies viciously attacking me. I waved a particularly loathsome one away from my face and went back to staring at the door.
Finally, she stepped out into the open. Red hair, pasty skin, and leaving a trail of fairy dust in her wake—it was the bartender from the lion attack a few nights ago.
What the hell was she doing there?
I eased around the dumpster and over to the corner of the building. A quick glance around the bend showed me she was leaving, climbing into a dark sedan with a huge dent in the hood.
The wonky memory I had of being tossed through the air like a bouncy ball came to the surface. It didn’t make sense. Why would the strung-out bartender be there of all places? And why the hell would she try to run over me with her car? As far as I could tell, she had no connection to Shiller or his wife.
I suddenly felt like I was trying to put a puzzle together without all the pieces. And I hated puzzles.
Once I was sure the bar-bitch was gone, I eased back the side door and pulled it open a crack. No one tried to shoot my head off, so I stepped inside and pulled it closed behind me, quietly.
Waiting for my eyes to adjust to the relative darkness, I listened for sounds that anyone else was in the building. Other than a far off pinging, which was likely rats scurrying over something, I heard nothing remarkable.
I stepped forward, into the open area near the front of the building and took stock. A bank of small offices lined the area on one side, I’d check them next. Otherwise, rows of very old convey
or belts filled the floor and a stacks and stacks of old newspapers sat on the other side of the room.
I checked the offices quickly and quietly. They were all empty and looked to have lain undisturbed for decades. Which made sense. If I was a bad guy trying to do nasty, evil shit, I wouldn’t be doing it feet from the front door. I’d be hidden within the hidey-hole at large.
I needed to crawl further into the belly of the beast.
I went off in search of a basement or back rooms, storage areas and the like. While searching, I sent out occasional blips of searcher magic, just to see if I could sense anything or anyone that shouldn’t be there.
Four areas later, one of my pings picked up on something.
I stood at the top of a half-flight of stairs, which most likely lead to a boiler room or something similar. At the bottom was a green steel door, and on the other side of it there was someone, or something, leaking the tiniest bit of magic.
My fingers twitched at my sides, one hand hovering near my holstered gun. Clenching my jaw, I stepped over the edge of the opening and navigated carefully down to the door.
I took a deep breath, pulled my gun out and checked to be sure it was chambered. Flicking the safety off, I placed my other hand on the big brass handle and pulled the door open quickly and quietly.
I entered low, in a half-crouch, keeping my back to the wall and sweeping the room with my eyes. I was looking for danger, but when my eyes settled on the far wall, my heart stuttered.
It was Dane. Beautiful, bleeding Dane.
He sat against a water-stained block wall and his hands were cuffed to a pipe above. Blood trickled down the side of his bruised face and his head hung to the side. His eyes were closed. I didn’t know if he was dead or just unconscious.
That had my magic popping under the surface of my skin. We don’t want to talk about what my heart was doing at seeing him like that.
I went to him, knelt down, and put my hands on either side of his face. He groaned, thank the gods. I’d never been more happy to hear a noise than right then.
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