The woman gave a sharp gasp, her back arching away from the cold tray of the drawer, but Nathan held her shoulder to keep her from sitting up.
“Steady,” he said, his voice low as her wild eyes finally focused on him. “You’re all right. Lie still and breathe, hm?”
Hannah relaxed as much as could be expected, and Nathan turned his attention to the man behind him, waking him with a similar light touch and quiet incantation. He jerked and panicked just as his wife had, only settling when he recognized Cora standing near him. Both Joel and Hannah were unsteady on their feet, but when they were standing and facing each other, the pair let out a string of laughter interrupted by kisses filled with obvious relief. Hannah cradled her belly in both hands, looking over at their saviors with the obvious question written in her eyes, but she smiled when a kick made her jump.
“Thank you,” she said, squeezing Joel’s hand in hers. “Thank you so much.”
Cora offered them the clothes from her bag, not quite able to hide her satisfied smile as the pair dressed themselves. “We’ll put you up in a hotel until Thomas can get your new identities sorted out,” she said. “Do you know where—” She stopped short, seeming to choke on her words, and she winced to stifle the pained sound threatening to slip through her teeth. Nathan instantly had a hand on her shoulder to steady her as she doubled over with both hands clutched to her stomach. When she pulled her hand away from her damp shirt, she exhaled sharply at the sight of blood on her palm and looked up at Nathan as though he could explain.
Before she could even voice her “what the hell,” another jab of pain cut through her abdomen. She did cry out this time, and Nathan urged her backward and lifted her up onto a nearby metal gurney, easing her down onto her back. Joel and Hannah moved toward them in concern, but Elton put a hand out to keep them at a safe distance.
Nathan peeled Cora’s soaked shirt away from her stomach, showing the gouges in her skin and narrowing his eyes as a new one sliced into her just underneath her ribs. The flesh opened on its own, spilling blood down her side and pulling an angry shout from her lips.
“What’s happening?” she managed to ask, gripping Nathan’s hand tightly to stop herself from touching the fresh wounds, but he didn’t answer her. He held his free hand over her stomach, and Cora could feel the heat from his bracelet even through her pain.
“Li se pa batay pa nou,” he murmured under his breath through a tight jaw. The cuts continued despite his efforts, and Cora’s fingernails dug so deeply into the back of his hand that she drew blood of her own. She finally relaxed slightly as Nathan focused his attention on easing her pain instead of stopping the attack. He kept his free hand pressed against her heart, and a sneer curled his lip as the open wounds began to take shape on her lower stomach.
Я ИДУ
Elton approached despite his warning to the couple behind him, his eyes scanning the bleeding cuts, and he exchanged a grim look with Nathan. Cora panted softly and lifted herself up on her elbows as the assault finally stopped.
“What?” she said. She looked between her companions with a frown. “What’s that face?” When neither of them answered, she stretched her neck forward in an attempt to get a better look at her own ragged stomach. Her jaw dropped open in a scoff of disbelief at the sight of the marks. “Are those...is that a word?” she asked in a shaking voice.
“It looks like Cyrillic,” Elton said, sounding subdued, as though he could keep the implications from her by speaking quietly.
“What?” Cora repeated one last time. “What is that?”
“Russian,” he clarified.
Cora winced as Nathan finally removed his hand from her and turned to look for some first aid supplies. Elton’s eyes followed his hurried steps as he tugged on drawers and flung open cabinets. Nathan’s faint frown betrayed the distress Elton was sure he would rather the blond not notice—he didn’t like not being able to stop the spell.
“Like that—like that Chaser?” Cora asked, drawing Elton’s attention back to her. She strained to see the marks when he nodded. “What does it say?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Well look it up or something,” she said, dropping back onto the gurney with a pained sigh.
“That’s the spirit, my love,” Nathan chuckled as he returned to her side laden with gauze and alcohol. He wiped away some of the blood on her belly with a cloth and let Elton snap a photo with his phone before he began to clean up the girl’s cuts.
Elton copied the letters from the picture into his search as best he could, and he frowned when he caught Cora watching him expectantly. “It says, ‘I’m coming.’ He’s trying to intimidate us.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Fucking asshole, making us Google translate his stupid threats.”
Joel crept forward uncertainly but didn’t release his wife’s hand. “A Chaser did that?” he said, drawing Elton’s attention away from Cora’s bloody torso.
“It seems so.”
“But why? Because she helped us?”
“It likely doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Elton answered. “We…had run-ins with the Magistrate before.”
“It’s because of you,” Cora muttered, shoving Nathan’s shoulder with half-hearted anger. “Can you please tell all of these jerk Chasers to stop hurting me to get to you? How did I get this gig?”
Nathan smiled apologetically at her as he smoothed some antibiotic ointment over one of the smaller cuts near her ribs, earning himself a hiss. “We’ll pay him back ten-fold,” he promised in a soft voice.
Joel didn’t look comforted. He glanced between Nathan and Elton, his brow lowered in suspicion. “Who are you people?”
Elton seemed reluctant to answer, but Nathan shrugged at him, so the blond sighed and turned to more properly face the anxious couple. “We’re Thomas Proctor’s friends,” he began. “We came here to help you—but that,” he said with a quick gesture toward Nathan, “is Nathaniel Moore. So we have a few Magistrate-related problems of our own.”
“Nathaniel Moore?” Joel echoed with confusion on his face, and Elton paused.
“You don’t know him?” He sounded equal parts astonished and offended.
“Not everyone studies my travel papers and dental records, darling,” Nathan spoke up from beside the gurney.
“But everyone watches the news, don’t they?” Elton turned back to Joel. “Nathaniel Moore. Murderer, thief, creator of two centuries’ worth of rampant destruction? The most infamous witch in modern times?”
“Elton, I’m blushing,” Nathan teased. “Give the boy a break; I’ve been out of the game a long while.”
“He’s not too young not to have heard of the witch who started the Second Great Chelsea Fire.”
“Allegedly.”
“If nothing else,” Elton sighed, “you didn’t hear about the Magistrate office in New York exploding recently?”
“Oh. Oh,” the man said, his voice softening as realization hit him. “I have heard of him—you,” he corrected with nervous eyes on Nathan, who didn’t bother to look up. “I thought he was...gone,” he finished, taking an unconscious step back.
“I tend to come and go,” Nathan chuckled. He tore a bit of tape with his teeth and finished fastening the strips of gauze around Cora’s middle, then helped her ease down from the bloodstained gurney with one arm hooked around his neck. “How’s that, my love? We can do better once we’re back at the room.”
“I’ll live,” she assured him, though the words came through gritted teeth.
“Why—” Joel started, then hesitated with Nathan’s eyes on him. “If you don’t mind me asking—we’re grateful, but...why are you helping us?”
Nathan smiled with his arm around the girl leaning against his side. “Waiting for the catch, are you?” He chuckled when Joel nodded. “There isn’t one. I’m helping you because I’ve been you. It’s no simple business, keeping a reg lover away from the Chasers. But lucky for you, you have people interested in len
ding a hand. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take this injured little bird back home and leave you in the capable hands of Mr. Willis, here.”
“I’ll take care of them,” Elton promised. He looked back to Joel and Hannah, who both seemed more than a bit relieved to be parting ways with Nathan. “We can call Thomas on the way. I’m sure he’s already got something in mind for you.”
They cleaned up after themselves and parted ways on the street, Nathan even pausing to make sure the entry door was locked behind them. Cora leaned heavily against him in the back of their taxi, her damp shirt doing a passable job of hiding her injuries from the driver.
“I’m glad we helped them,” she said, her voice quiet and sleepy from lost blood.
“You helped them,” Nathan corrected her. “Elton and I were just here to look pretty.”
Cora didn’t answer, but she smiled as she settled into her friend’s shoulder. She let him lift her under the shoulders and knees and carry her back into their decrepit hotel room, and she didn’t even complain about the lack of privacy as she stripped down to her underwear. She was just happy to have the quickly-crusting clothes away from her aching body. She laid on the bed with one arm slung across her face to keep the light out of her eyes while Nathan plucked away the saturated gauze he’d taped to her stomach. He tended to her cuts with an array of oils and herbs from his case, smoothing the healing mixtures into her skin. She flinched when he began to stitch one of the deeper wounds.
“I’m really mad, you know,” she muttered, and she heard him snort a silent chuckle through his nose.
“You seem it.”
“I mean, this hurts, but—it’s uncool, man. That guy thinks he can do this to me because I’m the girl. Because I’ll cry, and because you’ll rush to protect me. Elton cursed me because I was an easy target. Chris thought I was just around to sit on Elton’s dick. What do I have to do to be more than the damsel?”
“Cora,” Nathan said, and his scolding tone made her peek out from under her arm. “You may be injured, but I won’t tolerate such self-pitying victimization. Just a few days ago, you escaped from a Magistrate jail cell and freed not only yourself, but Elton and Mr. Proctor as well. Today you helped a couple trying to start a family escape possible death and certain separation, and you did it with skill and quick-thinking. You’ve been nothing but bold, kind, and eager to learn since you climbed into that Jeep with me in Yuma, so whatever opinions other people have of you should scarcely cross your notice, as anyone thinking poorly of you obviously hasn’t been paying attention. Now hush and let me treat these cuts whilst you bask in the glory of your accomplishments.”
Cora paused a moment, feeling a creeping heat in her cheeks, but she let her forearm settle over her eyes again with a faint smile on her face.
9
Elton had returned to the room long after Cora had fallen asleep and roused Nathan only long enough to make him help reset the wards. The other man had helped himself to Elton’s sleep pants again as well as one of his undershirts, which was an unusual blessing, but it meant that Elton himself was made to sleep in his underwear again. In the morning—after Elton had removed Nathan’s arm from his waist and gotten up, but notably before he’d been able to consume any coffee—he discovered the reason for his companion’s unusually clothed state.
“I can’t believe the state of this place,” Nathan lamented, running one testing fingertip over the bedside table and smearing it against his thumb to feel the dust. “I know I was half asleep, Elton, but you couldn’t have chosen even a slightly less dilapidated motel? I’ve never felt such sheets. I had to wear clothes to bed or else risk either infection or infestation.”
“We can’t do it your way anymore,” Elton sighed. He did wish there were a coffee pot in the room, at least. “That kid Korshunov was onto your M.O.”
“He is the first one to track me down at home,” Nathan admitted, but he caught the sidelong glance the blond threw him and corrected himself with a chuckle. “The second, I mean, of course. The Magistrate seems to have sent another you after me, darling.”
“He endangered mundanes and cast magic right in front of them, and he threatened my ex-wife and tortured Cora. I’m pretty sure he’s another you.”
“I’m sorry—which one of us got our way by abusing innocent young women?”
“Abusing,” Elton snorted, feigning offense despite the prod of guilt in his chest.
“Oh my god,” Cora spoke up from the bed, rising slowly and resting back on her hands to avoid putting pressure on her tender stomach. “You’re both jerks, but that Chaser is an even bigger jerk, okay?”
“I’m more concerned with the microbial breeding ground of that sandpaper they’re trying to pass off as bath towels,” Nathan muttered. “And I didn’t see anything resembling a pool as we came in.” He gave a light sigh. “I suppose breakfast is out of the question.”
Cora shook her head, but she couldn’t help smiling. “Didn’t you grow up in, like, colonial times? How are you not hardier than this?”
“Man is meant to rise above the station of his fathers, my love. Society stagnates otherwise.”
“That’s a very lofty way of saying you like to be pampered.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“You’re the worst. Hand me that jar,” she said, reaching out for the remnants of the poultice she’d made for them the day before. When Nathan put it in her hands, she smeared what was left over the worst of her cuts, wincing as the skin pieced itself back together. She would still need to take it easy today. “So where are Hannah and Joel?” she asked as she set aside the empty container.
“I found them a hotel room just as unlikely as this one,” Elton answered. “I spoke to Thomas, and he should have news for them in a couple of days, so I told them to just lay low and call me if they needed anything.”
“Then who’s next? There are more people, right?”
Elton leaned his hip against the sink with his arms folded. “According to his notes, he hadn’t had anyone else in transit for some time. But he’s been relocating people for close to ten years, so the list is substantial. I suggest we check in on them one by one, just to be sure, but I don’t think anyone else is an emergency right now. He seemed to think the Controllers only got so much out of him before we escaped.”
“And I assume they’re spread out all over, aren’t they?” Nathan said. “Well, I do love a road trip.”
“There’s someone here I want to check out before we move on, remember. We have to wait for Thomas to finish up with Joel and Hannah anyway, so I’m going to look into it in the meantime.”
“One of the people on your murder list?” Cora asked. She got up slowly from the bed and lightly pushed Elton out of the way of the sink with one hand on his bicep, making room for her to brush her teeth.
“I don’t have a murder list.”
“You have a ‘decide if I’m going to murder them or not’ list.”
“Weren’t you considering blowing up an entire building full of people?” Elton sighed through his nose and softened the scolding in his voice. “I’m not asking you to get involved if you don’t want to. It’s probably better if you stay here and rest, anyway.”
Cora spit out her toothpaste before answering. “Well, who is this guy? You said he owns a factory, right? What’s weird about it?”
“Maybe nothing. I’d like to look at his home first and see what I can find before I go poking around where there are lots of people.”
“Maybe we can steal some of his towels,” Nathan suggested.
Elton let his eyes shut for just a moment while he took a slow, deep inhale that kept his thoughts from leaving his mouth.
The address in Maduro’s file led them to a sleek white house on a place called Palm Island, which seemed to consist entirely of newly-built mansions with gated driveways and palm frond fences. The three of them stood at the end of the driveway, leaving behind the car Nathan had stolen, and peered through the sliding wooden g
ate. The home was all pale stucco, tall windows, and cherry-colored wood, with a well-maintained driveway lined with stripes of green grass.
“And I get told off for having expensive tastes,” Nathan muttered.
“He probably paid for this with actual money,” Cora reminded him.
“Ill-gotten, apparently.”
“I don’t see any cars,” Elton said, bringing them back to the task at hand. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his willow token, turning it in his fingers and whispering the seeking incantation as he leaned closer to the closed gate. He waited, listening, but the wood stayed cold in his hand.
“Only residuals,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder at the others. “No one home.”
“Well, let’s see what we can see, then.” Nathan passed a hand over the security keypad near the fence and sent the gate gliding sideways, allowing them to approach the front door.
The inside of the house was just as sleek and white as the exterior. Pale marble floors, glass staircase railings, and a muted grey sofa on a granite-colored rug all gave the impression of a house made for showing in a magazine, not living in. It didn’t even smell right—the scent of lemon cleaning oil lingered in the air, as though every surface had been freshly wiped-down.
“There must be a lot of money in the rope business,” Cora said, even her soft voice echoing under the high ceilings.
“I doubt it’s the only business he’s in, if he ended up in that file,” Elton noted.
Cora looked up at him as he scanned the room. For the first time since they’d left Toronto, he looked like he belonged—his tidy hair, trim charcoal suit, burgundy tie, and matching pocket square made him fit right in with the sterile surroundings. He looked a little like he belonged in a magazine, too. It made a nice contrast with Nathan’s dark, cuffed jeans and untucked v-neck shirt, his tousled hair and scuffed suede boots. Elton was clean-cut and focused, and Nathan’s jewelry clinked softly as he lit a cigarette for himself in a stranger’s house. They balanced each other in a way that Elton probably wouldn’t appreciate her pointing out, but it made her smile faintly just the same.
The Left-Hand Path: Prodigy Page 10