I laughed. But then held up my hands as I saw his face begin to darken. “No, no. I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… I’ve had a really bad day, and the person I know the least is the most willing to throw down on my behalf. It’s just…” I quested for the right words, but finally chose a shrug, “an unexpected gift,” I admitted, smiling gratefully. “I didn’t mean to cause a riot. I did mean to cause a stir, but I didn’t know how nervous your crew was. I just thought it would be fun, and a phone call sounded lame.”
He studied me for a long while before finally nodding, his shoulders seeming to relax. “Shitty days are my specialty, and you subtly hinted that all might not be well in paradise.”
“I want to get an objective opinion. From another wizard,” I said carefully. Because this wasn’t my way of running for help. I genuinely wanted to talk to a colleague outside of the church. Someone untainted by their bureaucracy.
“Okay,” he said, crossing his legs, waiting for me to continue.
I took a calming breath, and then told him about my situation. Not complaining, but as an academic discussion. I knew my emotions were raw, and that I might not be thinking objectively. My best friend had been attacked, and my trusted mentor had just thrown a huge curveball at me – for the sole sake of getting a reaction. I didn’t want Nate’s direct help, but I did want his mind. Someone with my knowledge of the world who was unaffected by the church.
He listened attentively, staring at me with his damning green eyes. I realized that I was babbling towards the end, more focused on his gaze than my story, so cut off abruptly.
He took another sip of whisky, turning to look out at the sky. “You were right,” he said offhandedly.
I studied his profile – the sharp cut of his grizzled jawline, and the strong set of shoulders underneath his thin, plain white tee. I quickly looked away, refocusing. “About what?”
“The view,” he said, gesturing outward. He slowly turned to face me, and then shrugged. “To be honest, Callie, it sounds like you’re becoming a big girl.” He didn’t say it condescendingly. He actually sounded… sympathetic. “You went through some heavy shit with the demon thing, and in so doing, you showed Roland that you were one tough cookie. But he didn’t see you in action like I did. He needed to really test you before he went off on his trip. It was a damned cruel way to do it, but most of the old guys I know are like that. They don’t really think about feelings. Only the goal. The reward.” He took another drink, and then set the bottle down carefully. “It sucks, but it is what it is. Even though he likely knew you would hate him for it, your safety was more important to him.”
I was silent, considering his words. “I kind of suspected that. But… I felt too close to it to be objective. And in all fairness, his test could very likely be taken as truth and the shoe would fit.”
Nate grinned wolfishly. “Ten bucks says he asks if you talked to another wizard about this the next time you two talk. That will be the second part of his test.”
I frowned back at him. “No way…”
He grinned wider. “I guarantee it. The first step was to see if you could act in the moment. To keep your head. The second test will be to see if you sought out a form of objective proof to back up his claim, or if you simply took his word for it.” He met my eyes, and his were ruthless, no longer smiling. “Like a good student would…”
“That’s… no way. He would be pissed to hear that I blabbed about him to you,” I argued.
Nate was shaking his head. Then he held up a finger. “Riddle me this. If Roland was in your shoes, would he have sought out proof? Tried to see if you were really lying or if you were telling the truth? Would he have simply taken your word for it?”
I opened my mouth to say yes, but hesitated. I leaned back into my chair, sighing in defeat. “He definitely would have sought independent verification…” I admitted begrudgingly.
Nate grinned proudly. “Looks like you passed both tests, then.”
I found myself smiling faintly, still pissed, but proud, too. “Are old men always like this?”
Nate laughed. “You should meet some of my friends. Older than Roland by far, and they pull these kinds of stunts over a span of years. You don’t even know about it until way later,” he chuckled. “If it didn’t sound like you had so much on your plate, I’d ask you to swing by for dinner,” he said casually. “Everyone wants to meet you.”
I nodded at him, smiling. “Soon. Once all this blows over. We have a lot to discuss.”
“I don’t think I can get away from my stuff in St. Louis or I would offer to help,” he said.
I shook my head. “No, really. That wasn’t why I called. I just wanted some hard truth.”
He watched me intently. “Alright. Don’t forget about that dinner, or lunch, even.”
“I won’t,” I said, trying to hide the heat on my cheeks. It was just so hard to focus around Nate. I wasn’t sure why. There was definitely an attraction between us, and it had almost gotten us in trouble when we first met. But we both had stuff to deal with, first. It would do neither of us any good to jump into bed together, as fun as that sounded.
At least… not yet.
This time, I did blush. He saw it, smiled a little wider, and then nodded, as if achieving a small victory. “Get out of here, rascal,” I said, laughing.
“As you wish, Callie,” he said, grinning like a schoolboy. He climbed to his feet, reaching down for his satchel. It was a tattered mess.
“Can’t you afford a new one?” I asked, pointing down at it.
He glanced down, and then grinned. “I put them to hard use. And this one is fairly new.”
I rolled my eyes. Boys. And they thought girls were hard on their purses.
“Just curious, but what’s up with the claw marks on your stomach?” I said, pointing. “Baby werewolf?” I teased.
He cursed under his breath. “My cat’s a freaking psychopath.”
“You have a cat?” I asked, surprised.
He waved a hand. “I really don’t want to talk about it,” he said, blushing as he picked up his satchel, the bottle of whisky, and then hesitated. “I almost forgot. When this all blows over, I have someone you might want to talk to.” His eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Okay,” I said, mildly curious.
He flashed me a last grin, and then opened up a Gateway on the spot. He walked through it with much more arrogance than he had when he arrived. Or… a different kind of arrogance. Not ass-kicking arrogance, but a relaxed, calm arrogance, like a lion walking before his pride.
I leaned over, grabbed a piece of gravel from the roof, and threw it at his ass. He flinched slightly before glancing over his shoulder with a triumphant chuckle. “Later!” he shouted as he let the Gateway wink out of existence, leaving me alone.
I Shadow Walked back to my apartment, a big grin on my face.
My initial feeling of betrayal at spilling the story with Nate about Roland was now gone, replaced with a sense of satisfaction that I may have passed a second test from Roland. We would just have to see next time I talked to him.
I was still mad at him, but not as much as before.
Still, I would make his life hell for a few days once he got back to town. Just to keep him on his toes. I sat in a chair, glanced up at the clock, and nodded. Being around Nate made me feel restless, and with all the craziness after my training session, I felt as if I needed to let out a little more energy. I had time for a quick jog, which would limber me up in case things went to hell tonight.
I turned on some hardcore Kansas City rap as I changed, thinking furiously about what I wanted to accomplish, and how I could further impress Roland while he was away.
He wanted to test me, did he? Not without a price.
Chapter 14
The trees whipped past me as I pumped my legs harder, sucking in the cool breeze as it broke through the tall buildings around me. Whenever I found an alley, I would immediately dart through it, using it as a self-declare
d sprint zone. Firstly, I did this because if I was running for my life, I would be using alleys at every opportunity to help break line of sight with my pursuer.
Secondly, because it was amusing as all hell to watch people’s reactions when they saw a young, petite girl suddenly sprinting for her life through dirty alleys, causing them to instantly search for my pursuers. The odd part about that was why these people were never around when I was actually being chased. Then again, it was most often at night, when people’s sympathy and empathy for their fellow humans somehow faded away to nothing until sunlight once again reigned supreme.
But right now, I felt their eyes on me, even when I didn’t catch them looking.
Upon exiting an alley, I would instantly slow back down to a steady, ground-eating pace, lengthening out my strides and keeping my motion fluid. It felt good, and I knew that this time the feeling wouldn’t be ruined by Roland or Claire immediately after.
I had a few hours until the fundraiser this evening, plenty of time to finish a nice solid run, shower, change, and grab a bite to eat. I decided to swing by Pastor Benjamin’s new church, since I knew it was close. I don’t know why I cared, but knowing where it was seemed important, since their flyer had pissed me off so much.
I spotted another alley and ducked into it, exploding forward at top speed. The light extinguished as the tall buildings prevented any rays from touching the ground since it was late afternoon, and the sun wasn’t at its zenith. Looking up, I noticed a chain-link fence barred my way, but I also saw a fire escape hanging down in front of a closed dumpster. Rather than turning around, I churned forward, leaping up to grasp the fire escape and swing before it could drop down. I landed atop the dumpster, took three steps, and then hurtled the chain link fence.
I sailed through the air, legs tucked and right arm extended. I absorbed the impact with my legs, squatting down into a shoulder roll, and quickly regaining my balance to continue my flat sprint. I looked up to gauge my direction, and saw a form slip out of sight just ahead. I almost skidded to a stop, because the way the form moved seemed way too fast. And one of the reasons it seemed too fast was because it had been entirely still before suddenly fleeing.
Not the slow measured pace of someone walking around a corner ahead of me, but someone peering around a corner and instantly taking off the moment I spotted them. All I noticed was a flash of brown skin, casually professional attire, and neatly pulled-back dreadlocks.
I decided to follow. Best case, I had startled someone and they had bolted. I would simply run past them, abolishing my paranoia. Worst case, someone was tailing me or at least doing something shady. I rounded the corner with my hands up defensively, and saw the same figure dart around another corner up ahead, which he couldn’t have reached unless he was sprinting as fast – or faster – than I was. But he was doing it in a casual suit and loafers.
I poured on the speed, realizing we were now in a bizarre warren of interconnecting alleys wide enough to be loading areas. I dodged greasy puddles as best I could, trying to catch up to the running man.
Not sensing anyone else around, thus removing my fear of anyone noticing, I cast my concealment spell around me, transforming my motion into a water-colored blur that blended in with the brick walls around me. I listened intently as I reached the corner, and heard the patter of footsteps striking puddles ahead where the man could have either gone left or right.
I was panting as I skidded to a halt, glancing both ways at the intersection, but with all the echoes I couldn’t be sure which way he had gone. Rather than wasting time debating, I chose right, knowing that it should lead back to the main streets faster. The alley ended in a forced left turn. I took it, running a dozen steps before I saw that it ended in a brick wall.
I gasped, shocked to find two sharply dressed people – a man and a woman – seated in oxblood chairs against the brick wall. The ground around them was perfectly cleared, not a puddle or piece of trash in sight, almost as if they had just swept it clean. But they didn’t look the type to pick up a broom. No, they looked like they had a person for that kind of thing.
They stared back at me, sipping martinis, entirely unconcerned.
Chapter 15
The woman smiled sweetly at me. Sweet like poison. “This is no place for a lone wolf,” she purred. Her face was pristinely smooth alabaster, and her wavy red hair glistened as if freshly styled and curled. Her eyes were wide and fearless in her long, narrow face, and she wore a red evening gown that displayed a nice swell of bosom. Her delicate neck was draped in fat pearls, and for the life of me, I couldn’t place an age to her.
“Wolf?” the man murmured doubtfully, his voice clear and smooth. “I see a pup, dripping with desire, alcohol, and hot blood. My favorite,” he said, licking his lips. But his tone wasn’t threatening, more hyper-playful. He had long, sandy hair, slicked back to fit in with the professional crowd, and he wore a tailored charcoal suit with vibrant orange threads in a checkered pattern. He wore no socks, and bright orange loafers that looked ridiculously expensive. His pale-yellow shirt was open at the collar, and I caught a glittering golden necklace tucked into his wild swath of tan chest hair. His eyes were cunning, mischievous, and his double-cleft chin could have inspired a portrait or statue. Even with the unshaven cheeks.
“Darling, that should hardly impress you,” the woman chided. “I always exude these flavors.”
“True, Dear. Very true,” he said, glancing at her hungrily as if seriously considering ravaging her right there in her seat.
I blinked back. “What the hell are you guys doing here?”
“Hell,” the woman repeated, wiping a hand on her gown as if disgusted. “That crowd is too emotional if you ask me. Sulfur-scented millennials, complaining about the social injustice of their father abandoning them, and how it has held them back for so long.” She flicked her hand, dismissing them from her mind.
“Well, Dear, their father did abandon them. Picked favorites and everything. Perhaps they just need a trophy to feel better. Then maybe they would get the…” his eyes sparkled for a moment, “hell out of our city.”
“You can do better than that, Darling.” She rolled her eyes. “Otherwise I’ll have to move onto greener pastures. Like this fresh doe, here…” she said, eyeing me over the rim of her martini.
“Wolf,” I reminded her, studying them openly. She made a soft sound of acknowledgment, smirking in amusement. “Are you Angels?” I asked politely.
“Hardly!” the man burst out laughing. “Much too stuffy for our taste.”
“Honestly, Darling, the double connotations are getting quite thick, and none of them are altogether clever. Please stop or try harder.”
“That’s what she said,” he said, obviously trying to rile her feathers. She sighed heavily in reply, but her eyes did smile faintly.
I interrupted their banter, realizing that if I didn’t, they would jibe back and forth all day, an obvious hobby of theirs. “Did you two see anyone running this way before I came by?” I asked, not really sure why I was still standing here. Two finely-dressed strangers sitting on antique chairs in a dead-end alley, talking with a jogger. But they were definitely aware of the supernatural, which could be helpful.
“The man in black fled, and the gunslinger followed…” the man said, grinning excitedly. “Are you a gunslinger, child?”
I patted my empty hips. “Apparently not.”
The woman spoke up, sounding clearly annoyed. “I don’t care how uncouth it is for me to speak this openly, but you force my hand,” the woman said, standing up to glare at me. I tensed, preparing for a fight. “Remove the spell. It’s quite nauseating to see through it.”
“Like a drop of blood in fresh milk,” the man agreed, studying me as he took a sip of his martini. “It is a little jarring, child.”
I blinked, and then realized what they were talking about. I still held up my illusion spell. But… it obviously wasn’t hindering them much, just annoying them. Which pretty blata
ntly told me they were from my side of the railroad tracks. Not just aware of the supernatural, but they were some flavor of Freak. I dropped the spell, and shrugged my shoulders apologetically. “My apologies. It slipped my mind.” I waited for the woman to sit and straighten her dress. “Do you mind if I ask your names?”
“Quite emphatically, I would imagine,” the man said.
“One doth protest,” the woman agreed. The man held up a palm without looking, and the woman slapped it with her own, also without looking.
Seeing my blank look, the man sighed. “I’m Darling, and this is Dear. We have many names, especially for each other,” he said sensually, and I felt something as the woman shifted slightly, cheeks flushing.
“You are such a tush-man,” she murmured coquettishly.
I stared openly. Had he just used magic to pinch her ass? If so, why hadn’t it felt like a wizard? I had noticed something, but it wasn’t anything like my magic or anything else I recognized. Alarm bells instantly began ringing in my head, but my curiosity was piqued, and since I had obviously lost the man in black I decided to question them, dig a little deeper.
“Oh, no you don’t, Wizard,” Dear warned me. “We’ll have none of that nonsense.”
I tried to make my posture unimposing. “What nonsense is that?” I asked, because I hadn’t done anything.
“Colors. Colors swirling round and round, round and round,” she said, motioning toward my head with her glass. “Makes me wish you knew half as much as you think. That would be fun.”
Darling was nodding, sniffing the air. “Elderberry, sunshine, sawdust, and cut grass. It is rather confusing,” he agreed.
“Right…” I said slowly, glancing at our surroundings openly. “Is this spot significant to you?” I asked, motioning at the emptiness around them.
“Why else would we sit here? These chairs are absolutely orgasmic,” Darling said.
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