His eyes widened, and he took a breath, trying not to let his nerves get the better of him. She was beautiful.
Smiling, she held out a plastic bag with his workout clothes. “Looks like you have quite a selection of food there.” She tilted her head at the groceries.
He shrugged a shoulder. “Now that I have company, I need to keep you fed. Although, most of it’s to keep Bernard happy. Wouldn’t want him to cause much trouble while I’m not home. He likes to eat.”
“I see. Shouldn’t he be growing his own little garden?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
He smirked and watched the people walk in and out of the store with their shopping carts. “Yeah, he does, but his plants don’t always have things ready for harvest. He gets greedy and hates waiting. Anyway, we should probably get back to my apartment.”
She nodded and walked ahead of him on the sidewalk.
He glanced around the parking lot to make sure no suspicious types lingered. Not easy in this rougher part of the city. He enjoyed the shopping center near his home, but this had been on the way. It was better than nothing.
Two men in business suits and dark sunglasses, one bald and the other tall with curly hair, stared at Hannah. Ian stopped and watched them, keeping a safe distance from her. Enough so the two men wouldn’t know they were together. The bald guy nodded toward Hannah and glanced back at the black unmarked van. The suits were going to take her.
“Hannah. Let’s go back to the store. I forgot something.” He waited for her to go inside before following her in.
Frowning, she stared at the full bag in the crook of his arm. “What did you forget?”
“Nothing. We need to get out of here. There are at least two guys in suits staring at you. They showed up in a van. That’s not good.” He cocked his head toward the back of the store and started walking.
A young associate blocked his way. “Excuse me. You really shouldn’t go back there. It’s for employees only.”
“Look, someone’s after my girlfriend and me, and we need to use the back exit. I’m not going to wait around for her to get shot. Do you want that on your conscience, dude?” He gave his best hard-ass face. Glancing back at the storefront, he noticed the suited men were moving toward the store. Damn it! They needed to run.
“Uh, no.” The associate looked at the front of the store too, then stared at Ian with wide eyes. “Follow me.” He jogged toward the back of the store, and Ian and Hannah followed.
Hannah didn’t run as fast as he’d like, but the pain tensing her face clued him in. Her side had to be killing her. “Come on, Hannah. We need to hurry.”
“Screw you. I’m hurting.” She clenched her hand to her side and lagged a few more paces.
They made it to the back, and the young associate showed them to the exit. “Hopefully you two make it somewhere safe. Those guys look like they’re not messing around.”
Yeah, he knew that much. “Thanks.”
Ian grabbed Hannah’s wrist and urged her on. Her skin had paled a couple shades. “Come on, beautiful. You can do it.”
“Bite me.”
* * *
Blood soaked Hannah’s fingers and the new shirt she’d bought. Hooray for new outfits. At least it hadn’t been her favorite of the three. She slowed, but Ian continued to tug on her wrist, dragging her along that much harder.
She hated this. Hated running for her life from creeps who wanted her dead. Her only mistake had been hearing information MAX Home Security didn’t want her to know. Yet that put her on their hit list.
She pulled her arm away and stopped. “I can’t go much farther.”
“We don’t have much farther until we get to my apartment.” He turned to face her. His gaze dropped to her side, and the corners of his eyes tightened.
She looked down at herself and grimaced at the big red stain on her hot-pink-clad torso. Weakness drained away her energy. Would she make it to his place? She sure didn’t feel like it right now.
“Shit,” he said. “I…” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and scanned their surroundings. “Let’s find a place for you to sit for a minute or so, and then we’ll keep going.” His hand tightened on her shoulder.
She shot him a glare, but what other option did she have? None. She couldn’t keep going, and she didn’t think they should sit around for long. Surely Ian’s home was the safest place they could be. He was a security expert. Yet doubt wiggled in.
Her gaze caught sight of a bench farther down the sidewalk. She led him toward it and eased her body down, but even that hurt. Closing her eyes, she tried not to hunch her shoulders. That wouldn’t be good for the stitches.
“Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?” Ian asked, sitting next to her and rubbing his hand over her back.
“Besides from the obvious?”
He grinned. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
She smiled despite the pain. “You’ve been doing that. Thanks.” Another wave of agony ripped through her, and she barely swallowed a scream. “I think I’m good to continue on. Or let me rephrase that. I need to see your elf again as soon as possible.”
Ian gave her a blank stare. “Gnome. Please, don’t say that in front of him. Elves and gnomes are mortal enemies. Elves tend to kill gnomes for being too intrusive and interfering with their magic.”
“Oh… okay. No, wait… are you saying—” Her mouth dropped open. Was she hearing that right? Elves were real too? God. What next?
“Afraid so. Not that I’ve met any, but Bernard mumbles about them. I figure if he’s real then he’s not bullshitting me about the other stuff.” He shrugged. “Hopefully he’ll be polite this time. But I wouldn’t hold my breath.” He stood and helped her up, which was harder than she’d imagined.
Whatever Bernard had done was starting to wear off. Had he given her freaking metaphysical Advil or what?
Ian wrapped his arm under her shoulders to help support her as she hobbled along. Right now, she really wished she still had a car as opposed to a burnt lump of metal.
Sighing, she looked up at Ian’s apartment building. She could so curl up in a ball in his bed and sleep for a few days.
CHAPTER FIVE
Silence filled the apartment, except for the occasional sound of raking drifting in from the patio, where a small garden had been set up for the gnome. Wow, a time when Bernard didn’t make trouble.
Ian locked the door behind them and resealed the ward. “We’re back. Hannah’s not doing too well. We had a couple people chase us.”
A red, pointed hat poked around the corner from the garden, and Bernard trudged toward them. “Yes, I see. While you were gone, we had some visitors. People were sniffing around in the hallway and looking at the door. They’ll be coming back.” He cocked his head to the side and stared way up at them from knee-height. “Come on, pretty girl, lie down for me!”
Hannah raised both of her eyebrows and shot a glare at Ian. She walked over to the couch reluctantly. “Fine.”
“Don’t forget to take off those CLOTHES.” Bernard followed her, watching her ass.
“I’m not taking off my clothes. Work around them.”
“But…”
“No, she doesn’t need to get naked, Bernard. Don’t be such a pervert.” Not that he’d mind seeing her undressed. Ian walked to his favorite armchair and slouched into it, supervising them. He wouldn’t leave Hannah vulnerable while Bernard worked his magic. He knew Bernard could be pretty pushy when it came to getting touchy-feely.
“Hrummmpft!” Bernard ran his hands near the blood-oozing wound. “Seems like you busted a few stitches. Exertion must’ve caused it.” The way he drawled out exertion made it sound almost vulgar. “I can fix this.” He chanted under his breath and held his hands over the wound but stopped. Glancing over at Hannah’s face, he chuckled. “Although, what do I get for helping, eh? Does Bernie get a KISS?”
Hannah’s eyes widened, and she pushed him away. “Hell, no!”
Sighing, he shrug
ged his shoulders. “Doesn’t hurt to ask. Unless, of course, pain is your thing!” Then he picked up chanting for a few more minutes. “I need my bag now.”
“Do I look like your nurse?” Ian sighed but fetched Bernard’s bag anyway. He might’ve resisted more if it had been anyone but Hannah. But he wanted her to be whole again. And he wanted that now. Especially with the danger they were up against. How had the men found them near the store? Nothing was coincidence with those guys.
Hannah’s new clothes. Shit! He should’ve paid for those as well. He knew there’d been a strong chance of them tracking her banking chip.
He dropped the bag next to Bernard and sat in the armchair, holding his head. A headache pressed against the back of his eyes. His field of vision narrowed a little, and jigsaw lines danced at the edges, forming, disappearing, and reforming in chaotic patterns.
Bernard paid him little attention, focusing mostly on his gnomish chanting while he stitched the wound up. Ian helped out by handing him various tools and talismans.
“That should do it. Come on, big girl, stop whimpering, you aren’t in my bed yet!” Bernard grinned wide and turned, seeing Ian push his palm into the side of his head. His smile faltered.
“What’s wrong? Why is everyone quiet?” Hannah lifted her head slowly from the couch pillow.
“Okay, girl, Ian needs peace and quiet. Ever hear of migraines? Ian has something similar, except it’s affecting his magic. Or maybe is triggered by it. He needs to lie down for a while. That means sleeping. No sex, you slut,” Bernard said in a low tone, his grin rebounding across his face. He toddled over to Ian and put a hand against his forehead, then mumbled a few words.
A moment later, Bernard moved away. Dull stabbing sensations still weighed on Ian, but at least the pain had lessened.
Hannah helped him to the bedroom. He felt weak, his normal sense of strength gone. Ian took the chips he’d retrieved from Rich and gave them to Hannah. “Set these farther away. I might do something to them without noticing. I need to rest for a while.” He rolled under the covers, watching her.
Setting the chips aside, she closed the bedroom door. A moment passed before he could hear Bernard say, “Feeling tired yet, pretty lady? Why won’t you lay down and take a nap with Uncle Bernie?” The gnome chuckled loudly.
The bedroom door opened again, and Hannah crept inside, her eyes wide and her skin a little pale. She locked the door behind her.
“And absolutely no sex!” the gnome yelled from the other side of the door.
* * *
The sound of constant tapping woke Ian. Hannah had snuggled up close to him, and his head felt somewhat better. He opened the bedroom door and saw Bernard sitting on the coffee table staring at the front door.
The gnome tilted his head and looked at him. “They’re here. With some strange tools. Do they think the door is going to give in like an old safe? Just shows what kind of people we’re dealing with. All muscle, no brain.”
Ian tiptoed to the door and looked into the hallway using the peephole. Two men in blazers and an older gentleman with a variety of lock picks were outside. The locksmith was sweating steadily, and the men behind him had impatience written in their rigid stances.
Touching the handle gently, Ian tried to estimate the power of the ward. The tinkering outside was good—excellent for human standards. The older gentleman had the latest lock picks on the market. He used tiny nanofilaments made from various types of metals and carbon, allowing the small wires to slip inside the lock and give an estimate of the actual shape of the key. The nanofilaments were reliable enough to provide an almost exact match, similar to an old, well-used key turning in a lock without a hitch.
Various oils and corrosive acids had already been added to clean dirt and other unwanted material from the lock. In addition, the acids made the lock’s surface more susceptible for picking, allowing the mechanism to slide more than it should have.
That is, if it had been a normal lock. Thanks to Bernard’s magic against these elements and increased durability, the lock simply ignored the acids. His own ward prevented any technology from working properly inside the lock without first disengaging the ward. His backup wards would repel any other regular force.
Paranoid? Oh, yeah!
Ian sighed with relief and stepped away. As long as they were using normal methods, he was perfectly safe. The fire escape and windows had similar-style warding on them, allowing them to remain protected against burglars.
He went to the living room, where Bernard sat on the coffee table, overly happy at the frustration coming from outside. Not only did his curse inflict frustration and negative emotions by his mere presence, but he was sensitive to others’ emotions and utterly enjoyed feelings of annoyance, frustration and despair.
“Come on, Bernard, you don’t need an emotional high,” Ian said, nudging the gnome gently.
“Please. You rarely give me a decent fix. Those out there are like the police burning a huge pile of weed next door to a rehab clinic. Besides, I put up those wards with you. This is my reward. Actually… let me get a little closer.” Bernard dropped onto the carpet and inched toward the door.
Ian grimaced at the gnome and took Rich’s ID and the banking chips Hannah had left on the end table. He sat in his office with its pile of electronics and computers. Once he figured out these chips, maybe they could decide on a plan of action. He placed Rich’s ID chip near an RF reader and let his magic do the work.
Within moments, his computer had a perfect copy of the chip’s contents on the hard drive, and most of it had been analyzed. Browsing the binary data, he tried to find messages Rich might have left in the normally unreadable areas of the chips.
Here and there, familiar door codes and access information to servers popped out. The irony wasn’t lost on him. The binary jokes in the chip pointed to MAX Home Security as a two-sided company. On one hand, they were strict and brutal, enforcing their policies and protecting their customers with zeal. On the other hand, they were too lax to change access codes to doors and servers on a regular basis and tended to cycle over similar codes when they did reset them.
He changed the chip and went over Rich’s banking information. Beyond regular gas purchases, rent, groceries, and a few adult-rated sites, something stood out at him. Every Thursday, Rich ate at a local Japanese teahouse. That wasn’t his type of place. He’d known Rich to eat a steak or hamburger and lasagna from a nearby Italian restaurant, but he always drank coffee. Never tea.
He leaned his head into his palms and sighed. “What did you get yourself into?” Staring back at the computer, he printed out the information for Hannah. He picked up the ID chip and took another look. It still had something in it he just couldn’t put his finger on.
Hannah walked out of the bedroom and crossed her arms under her breasts. “What’s that noise?” Her voice was sleepy and quiet.
“People trying to break in. Come over here. I checked out Rich’s chips. I’d like to go over them.” Ian frowned at Hannah’s stunned face. “What’s wrong?”
Hannah shoved her hands through her hair. “Breaking in? Shouldn’t we get out of here? Why didn’t you wake me up?” She looked around at the somewhat quiet scene. Bernard sat, eyes half closed, staring at the front door and humming to himself. Then there was Ian, lounging in front of his computers, unalarmed by someone trying to get into his apartment.
“There is a ward on the door. They can’t get in. Besides, you were fast asleep when I got up. I didn’t want to bother you. We’re perfectly safe here. We have food, water, and a very happy gnome. Anyway, read through this. I’ll go make us something to eat.” Ian stood and walked toward the kitchen.
Hannah grabbed his arm and stopped him. “Wait. What if they do get in? And what’s a ward? I don’t understand.”
His eyebrows drew together. What was with him? First, he’d had a migraine last night, when she’d never known him to have those, and now he seemed totally fine with someone breaking into his apartm
ent? She rubbed her eyes and sighed.
“I promise everything will be okay. We’re safe here. A ward is a magical barrier that remains active until broken or disengaged. They have no way to break it. They don’t even know it’s there.” He smiled and walked into the kitchen, out of sight.
She frowned, staring down at Ian’s desk until her gaze zeroed in on the papers sitting on his printer. They had lots of details about Rich. Bank account information, among other things. She pinched the bridge of her nose, not feeling her best. Her world was crashing down. How the hell was she supposed to concentrate?
She snatched up the papers and walked into the kitchen to put distance between herself and the noise of whoever was trying to get into Ian’s apartment. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
“Anything else you’d like to share aside from all this information? It’s a little hard for me to pinpoint what’s odd when I don’t have much of an idea who Rich was.” She sat at the kitchen table and watched Ian grab a skillet from a drawer under the oven. For a technomage, his kitchen was decidedly low-tech.
He looked at her for a moment and sighed, setting the skillet on the stove range before sauntering over to her and slumping into the chair across the table. “Things I noticed were pass codes, door codes, etc. But his bank statement said a lot. He went to a teashop every Thursday. That’s not like him. He didn’t drink tea.” He pointed to different instances on the sheets of paper.
What had Rich done?
“Geez. This is pretty intense.” She stared into his eyes.
A gunshot blast came from the other room. She darted to the entrance of the kitchen, bumping into Ian.
There were no signs of entry. The only sign of anything off was Bernard leaning against the front door, caressing the wood lovingly.
“What’s he doing?” she asked.
CHAPTER SIX
Techno Crazed (Hacked Investigations) Page 3