by Devon Monk
I wondered if I should call Nola and warn her we were coming.
Probably. Otherwise, she might already be out for breakfast.
I pulled out my cell and dialed.
“Nola Robbins speaking,” she said.
“Hi, it’s Allie.”
“I’m glad you called,” she said in a rush. “I’m sorry. For how I acted yesterday. It was stupid. The whole thing was so strange, and I was really out of my depth. I’m not your mother, and you don’t need me to take care of you. Of course there are going to be things you don’t want to tell me.”
I exhaled the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “No, it was dumb of me not to tell you everything that’s been going on lately. I mean, I was the one who begged you to help me keep my memories recorded, and then I screwed it up. Sorry.”
“Let’s buy each other coffee.”
“And dessert. Done. But not today. I need a favor.”
“Okay.”
“I need to come over and talk to Cody about that shadow you saw. Has he told you anything else about it?”
“No. He stayed up half the night looking for Stone. He’s asleep right now.”
“Is Paul there?”
“No,” she hedged. “Why?”
“Because I don’t really want to explain myself to him.”
“Are you doing something illegal?”
“No, but he’s always asking questions, and that makes me nervous.” I laughed. “Can I come over now? I’ll be with Zay and Shamus.”
“Sure,” she said. “I’ll put on some coffee.”
We hung up, and I heard a sound behind me. Zay stood in the kitchen doorway, rivulets of water tracking down his jaw and shoulder. I loved it when he didn’t wear a shirt. He always wore clothes that hid the width of his shoulders and disguised the thick muscles of his arms, chest, and tight six-pack stomach. But seeing him without his shirt on today just showed me how bruised and swollen he still was.
They had beat the crap out of him. Anger scorched through my mind. I was going to kick Dane’s ass for that.
“Little help?” Zay held up the roll of elastic bandage.
“Do you want to sit?”
“It’d be easier if I stand.”
I took the bandage and started at the top of his rib cage, my hands shaking a little. Not from nerves—from anger. “That too tight?”
“No.”
I got to the bottom, tucked the end of the wrap under the last round, and set the little hook. I rested my hands on his hips, bent, and kissed the exposed skin just above his waistband.
“Mmm.” He opened his arms, and I straightened and folded myself against him, trying not to hold him too tight, wishing he weren’t hurting. Wishing Dane had never gotten in my apartment. Wishing I knew where Dane and his men were so I could show them what I could do with a crowbar.
“Coffee’s done,” he said against my hair.
“Nola’s waiting for us.” I leaned back so I could look at him. “Please take a painkiller.”
“I did.” He reached out, tucked my hair back behind my ear. “I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
“No,” he said, tucking the hair back behind my other ear. “It’s the truth. I’m breathing, there’s a cup of coffee in my near future, and a beautiful woman in my arms. What more could a man ask for?”
“Revenge.”
He smiled, and there was an entirely different look in his eyes. “Oh, I’ll get that too.”
I stepped back. “Promise you’ll let me watch?”
“Front-row seat.” He kissed me, just one hot brush of his mouth against mine. Then he walked past me, shrugging into his T-shirt. He pulled two cups off the shelf.
“Want pizza?” I held out a slice for him.
He poured coffee into the cups, took a drink, and gave me the cup for two pieces of pizza. “Let’s take it to go.”
I grabbed a slice for myself and ate pizza and drank coffee while finding my boots, my jacket, and my blank book.
Everything accounted for, a fresh cup of coffee poured, and one more slice of pepperoni to go, and we were ready.
“Stone?” I said. “You take care, okay, boy?”
He gurgled from the corner of the room. Sleepy. I didn’t need to worry about him. If he wanted out, he’d get out.
We left the apartment and took the stairs down. Zay finished off another piece of pizza—his third, I think—and I finished my coffee.
Dawn was giving way to morning, the hush of night replaced by birds and traffic. The sky was a patchwork of blue and pink, the blush of sunlight hooked into the curve of clouds.
It wasn’t raining. It wasn’t freezing. All in all, a pretty nice start for the day.
We got in the car, and Zayvion headed off toward Stotts’ place.
“Will Detective Stotts be there?” he asked.
“No. She said he’s already gone into work. He probably has cameras on the place, though.”
“He does.”
“That was definite. You case his house?”
“Looking after the city is my job.”
“Which means?”
“Of course I’ve cased the house of the head of the secret department of the police force that deals with magical crime. I’ve been at this for a few years.”
“Wow, okay. Take it down a notch, Mr. Truth and Justice,” I teased. “Afraid I’m going to tell Victor you aren’t doing your job right?”
He gave me a look. “Victor wouldn’t believe you.”
“Sure he would. He likes me.”
Zay chuckled. “Good. You be his favorite for a while. I’ll take a vacation.”
“You can’t take a vacation.”
“Why?”
“You’d miss me.”
He took a moment to consider that. Finally, “I’d get over it.”
“Oh, please. You’d think of me day and night. You wouldn’t be able to breathe, sleep, or eat without me.”
“I’d manage,” he said dryly.
“And you’re so sure of that?”
“Yes. I already think about you day and night. It hasn’t killed me. Yet.” He maneuvered the car through traffic, putting the speed limit to shame. “I’d just be doing it on a white-sand beach somewhere. Sounds nice, actually.”
“You and I are no longer on speaking terms.”
His phone rang, and he answered. “Almost there. Five minutes. Good.”
He hung up. “Shame’s there.”
“Already?”
“I thought we weren’t talking,” he said.
“Invite me to your beach, and I’ll reconsider conversation.”
“Bring beer and I might let you on my beach,” he said.
“Might? I think you’ll not only invite me; you’ll have margaritas waiting. And if you ask nice, I’ll wear a bikini. Brazilian.”
“Topless?”
“I said Brazilian.”
He frowned and nodded. “Since you put it that way, this is me asking nice.”
“So Shame?” I said.
“He’s not invited to my beach.”
“No, I mean he’s awake already?”
“Still. I don’t think he slept last night.”
We pulled up alongside Paul’s house. Shame was sitting in his car, parked on one side of the cul-de-sac. We parked behind him and got out.
Black hoodie, black fingerless gloves, smoking. He looked like he not only hadn’t slept, but also hadn’t brushed his hair or changed his clothes.
“Rough night?” Zay asked.
“Oh, no. Glorious, thanks. Mum had me crosschecking data on the solid Veiled all damn night. Fuckin’ A, there better be a shot of whiskey at the end of this damn morning.”
“Nola said she’d have fresh coffee,” I said.
“Whiskey. I’ll say it slow: whiiiskey.”
We all walked up to the house, and Zay knocked. He glanced up at the corner of the porch roof and nodded. Camera, I assumed.
The locks turned, and then Nola
opened the door. “Come on in, all of you. Coffee?”
“God, yes,” Shame said. “Strong as you can make it, with milk and sugar, thank you.”
We stepped into Stotts’ house. I have to admit I was more than a little uncomfortable here. I first and foremost thought of Stotts as a person who hired me for Hounding. And I’d always tried to keep my working relationships and personal relationships two very different things. Especially when it came to the police. Standing in the middle of Stotts’ living room made me feel like I was on stage under a spotlight.
The house was decorated with minimal furniture—couch, chair, a side table with a few magazines stacked neatly. The TV was relatively new and mounted on the wall. A fireplace commanded the opposite wall. The room was off-white, had a couple cityscape paintings and a bookshelf filled with books, all neatly stacked by size and held in place by marble bookends.
Functional, clean, nothing fussy. The home of a man who lived alone and probably didn’t stay home much.
Nola shut the door, then walked over toward me. I was struck at how much she seemed to belong here, surrounded by Stotts’ things, his life. Sunlight always followed her, and today was no different. She looked like a sunflower in the shade. As if this house, this room, and the life that filled it had been waiting for her to come along and push the cool shadows away so that things could grow again.
If I didn’t know her so well, I’d probably overlook the smudge of darkness under her eyes. But I did know her. I could tell she had not slept well last night.
She gave me a quick hug, and I knew we were right again. “Did you eat anything? I can whip up some eggs,” she said.
“I don’t think we’ll stay that long. Can we see Cody?”
“Sure. This way.” She led us back to the kitchen.
A small kitchen table was tucked up against a window that looked out onto a well-kept yard. Stotts either hired a service or knew how to keep a lawn green.
Cody sat at the table, his hair brushed but damp from a shower. He wore a navy blue sweatshirt, a pair of jeans, and no shoes. He was eating cereal and reading the back of the cereal box.
“Cody,” Nola said, “Allie’s here to visit.”
Cody looked up at me and smiled. “Hi! My monster. My good monster.”
“Yes,” I said. “Have you seen him lately?”
“He didn’t come home.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “Maybe he had some monster things he needed to do. Cody, do you remember Zay?”
He smiled at Zay. “Hi.”
“And this is my friend Shamus. Shamus, I’d like you to meet Cody.”
“Hey, Cody,” Shamus sat down at the table across from him and turned the cereal box so he could read the back of it. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Cereal. Do you want some cereal?”
“Not right now. Unless there’s whiskey in it?”
Cody frowned; then a small smile curved his lips and he met Shame’s gaze. “Whiskey isn’t for breakfast.”
“It is if you’re Irish,” Shame said.
These two knew each other. They’d probably even gotten into some trouble together from the way Shame grinned at him.
“No. Cereal is for breakfast,” Cody insisted. “And rum.”
“Cody!” Nola sounded shocked; then she laughed.
Shame nodded. “Rum it is. You are a very smart man.”
Cody tipped his head as if trying to remember something else, then shrugged and took another bite of cereal. He seemed to forget any of us were in the room. He ate his cereal, humming to himself and looking out the window.
Shame, I knew, was checking in Cody’s head to see if there was anything other than Cody in there.
“Cody,” I said, “do you remember seeing a shadow man the other day?”
He looked up at the ceiling and chewed. Swallowed. “Yes.”
“Do you know where he is?”
He stopped swinging his feet and brought his gaze down to mine. “He went away. My monster made him go away. He won’t touch me anymore. Older me said so. Older me said it’s okay now and I don’t have to be afraid.”
Shame sat back a little and looked like he took a breath. “I think Older you is pretty smart too,” he said. “But don’t let him have all the rum.”
“Cereal,” Cody said with a smile.
“Cereal,” Shame agreed. “Have a good day, okay, buddy?” Shame stood, exchanged one of those looks that only Zay could interpret, then turned to Nola.
“Thanks for letting us come by,” he said. “I’m pretty sure whatever you saw really is gone and hasn’t left Cody damaged.”
“Damaged?” she said. “Is that why you came over?”
“My idea, Nola,” I said. “Shame’s good at looking at someone and knowing if they’ve been hurt by magic. I wanted to make sure Cody was okay.”
She rubbed her fingers over her eyes. “Allie, if you and I are going to live in the same city, you are going to have to stop keeping information from me. You told me you were coming over to ask me about the shadow. You did not tell me Shamus was going to do magic on Cody in Stotts’ kitchen. I don’t want people doing magic on Cody—not even if those people are your friends. I want to keep him away from as much magic as possible.”
“Nola, I—”
“Just. Allie.” She walked over to me and took my hands in hers. “Stop treating me like someone who can’t deal with the truth. I’ve been through plenty of ugliness in my life. And if it has something to do with my well-being, or Cody’s safety, just tell me. Even if magic is involved. Especially if magic is involved.”
She wasn’t angry. She was disappointed. And that made me feel even worse.
Zayvion and Shame were oblivious to the emotions in the room. They weren’t even in the room anymore. They were already walking toward the living room.
“Coming?” Shame called from the living room. “Oh, and thank you, Nola. Sorry I couldn’t stay for the rum, Cody!”
Cody laughed and drank the milk out of his bowl.
“I should go,” I said. “Sorry I’ve been an idiot.”
“It’s that bad, isn’t it?” she asked. “Whatever it is you’re not telling me?”
I took a breath to tell her no, it wasn’t as bad as I was making it sound. But she wanted the truth. “Truthfully? Things are going to hell. And I’d rather you were safe four hundred miles away instead of here. But as far as I know, there is no reason you are in danger. I might just be overreacting about that. Enough that I thought Cody might need to be looked at to make sure he’s okay—and if Shame says he is, he is. So that’s a good thing. It’s been a hard year, you know?”
“Yes, it has,” she said. “Maybe I’ll cut our visit short. Come back in a month or so.”
I smiled. “You are the best.”
“So are you. Take care.”
We hugged once more; then I was out of Stotts’ kitchen, out of his living room, leaving my best friend behind and following Zayvion and Shame to the cars.
“What’s the hurry?” I asked.
Shame got into his car and started the engine. Zay and I got into Zay’s car.
“Shame thinks he has a lead on Leander.”
“What? Where?”
“He said Leander did more than try to get in Cody’s head.” Zay started the car and pulled up close behind Shame, following him at barely legal speeds through the streets.
“And?”
“He tried to possess him, just like you said. Tried to make him draw on magic. He needs a host. Someone caught between life and death.”
“Like Cody.”
“Yes. And since he gave up on Cody, Shame thinks he might try for Greyson next.”
“Wait. Greyson’s in prison. Why would Leander want his body?”
“Shame said he left behind a sense of looking for the solid Veiled. Looking for disks.”
“But why Greyson? He’s brain damaged, right?”
“Yes, that’s what Victor’s been saying. But Leander does
n’t know that. He might know that Greyson has a disk implanted in his neck. And maybe the brain damage works for him—gives him room to infiltrate his mind.” He looked over at me. “Hopefully he’ll be desperate enough to possess him.”
“An undead very angry dark magic user possessing a half-man, half-beast Necromorph who tried to kill you is a good idea?” I asked.
“Greyson is locked up in the strongest prison on the West Coast. If Leander thinks he’s going to break out of that, he’s wrong. But if he finds a way into it, then we have one less problem to worry about.”
“And you think he’d be dumb enough to possess someone in jail?”
“No. I think he’s arrogant enough to think he could do it and break out.”
“I’ll call Victor.”
I pulled out my phone and dialed. Had to wait for several rings. Finally, “Yes, Allie?” He sounded annoyed.
“Victor, do you have Shame on the other line?”
“No. Why?”
“He just saw Cody Miller and thinks he knows where Leander might be headed.”
“Where?” No more annoyed. Now he was interested.
“To Greyson. He needs a host body, someone between life and death, someone with access to a disk.” There was something missing about that. I could buy that Leander wanted a physical body, but I still didn’t know why he wanted Greyson of all people.
“Shame put that together?” Victor asked. “Our Shamus?”
I tried not to laugh. “Yes.”
“Is he in the car with you?”
“No. He’s driving his car. We’re following.”
“Hang up. I’ll call him.”
I hung up.
“Where’s Shame headed?” I asked.
“The prison,” Zay said.
“You mean the place no one in the Authority except the Voices are supposed to know the location of?”
“Yep.”
“Can’t imagine Victor’s going to be happy about that,” I noted.
Shame’s brake lights glared red, and he swerved onto the shoulder. I don’t think he even had time to put it in park before he was out the door and throwing his cell phone back in the car. He slammed the door closed and kicked it for good measure.
“And neither is Shame,” Zay said. He rolled down the window.