“You make it sound like you’re dating her as a favor to Hadley.” Grier whistled. “Ouch.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Ford groaned. “I like Lisbeth. Not because Hadley told me either.”
“This is embarrassing me, and it has nothing to do with me.” Bishop angled the laptop toward me. “This is the household account for grocery delivery. There are two addresses. One at the Faraday and one in a bad part of town.”
“That’s good news.” I leaned over the table. “Pull the address up on a map.”
The top search result was for Women’s Medical Center. He clicked on the most popular image, and a red cinderblock building with fading blue trim appeared onscreen. Sun-bleached flyers in the window touted everything from free birth control to onsite GED classes. I could picture Liz volunteering there with ease. Hiding kidnap victims? Not so much.
“Well, that’s a bust.” I slumped with disappointment. “We’ll still need to clear it, though.”
“Maybe not a bust.” He switched to the previous screen. “Looks like the center closed a month ago.”
“Okay.” I chewed on my thumbnail. “I can see why.”
“Ares had groceries delivered there yesterday.”
“What?” I dropped my arm. “Bring up the list.”
A mix of shelf-stable foods, mostly protein bars and junk food, bottled water, and toilet paper topped it.
“How far is this?” Grier spoke from behind me. “Can we check it out tonight?”
“Not far.” I calculated the distance in my head. “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”
The wake accomplished one thing. Ares knew Midas was onto her. She wouldn’t have rabbited otherwise. And if she started erasing their trail, she might burn the evidence. All four witnesses included.
“Midas and Ford, you’re with me.” I patted Bishop on the shoulder. “Get me eyes on that building.”
“I’ll head back to HQ.” He stood and took the laptop with him. “I’ll put Reece on surveillance.”
“Sounds good.” I hesitated over Linus and Grier. “Usually, this is the part where I run out of orders to give and people to give them to, so I’m drawing a blank.”
“We can handle patrol,” she offered. “That way your team can focus on you, and we can make sure your raid doesn’t flush out more rats.” She grinned, and we were two teenagers again. “Or Martian Roaches.”
“That would be great.” I experienced a twinge at handing over the reins to my city, even for a night, even in part to the man who still held her. “Thanks.” Facing the others, I wiped my damp palms on my pants. “Let’s go.”
The fate of my world rested on the outcome of this trip, and that was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.
We could be this close to finding them. This close to setting things back to rights. This close to…
…the truth.
However much it might hurt.
Thirteen
Midas texted his mother an update. The operation belonged, officially, to the Office of the Potentate. He doubted his mother would protest the pack ceding that right, given his mating to Hadley, but there was little he could do in any case. The bomber had targeted her, and then her family. The case fell under her jurisdiction, even if the person responsible was gwyllgi. Or wore the skin of one.
Meting out punishment, however, might get sticky.
Traditionally, the OPA handed gwyllgi offenders over to the alpha for a trial and sentencing. That might not be an option in this instance. No confrontation with witchborn fae, or hosts, had ended in anything less than bloodshed. But the pack would be on edge if the future potentate put down one of their own.
All the more reason to do as his mother suggested and make his union official in the eyes of the pack.
“Almost there,” Hadley said under her breath, sensing his unease.
Midas had forgotten Linus used the Society’s car service when Hadley accepted his polite offer of a lift to the clinic. That might have been a willful choice. He hated riding in these branded sedans with their haughty disdain for their passengers. Or maybe that was just him feeling out of place in their world, so different from pack life or fae mores, making the ease with which Hadley had integrated into his all the more impressive.
The interior of the car was as red as a mouth opened on a scream. Old blood and crushed herbs perfumed the air, and with the AC blasting, it was as cold as the grave. He couldn’t wait to escape. Ford looked primed to bolt with or without the car stopping first, but the pomp didn’t bother Hadley.
Plus, he couldn’t argue with Linus’s reasoning. The Swyft database had been hacked in the past. They couldn’t risk it, or a cab company, giving away their location. Ford’s truck, while convenient, was hardly inconspicuous. Better to use an untraceable mode of transportation than to announce their plans.
The crimson sedan rolled to a stop, and the driver peered through his pristine windshield at the derelict surroundings with faint concern.
“Master Lawson requested I drop you here,” the driver said in a wooden tone. “Does that suit Madam?”
“This is fine.” Hadley offered him a polite smile. “We can walk from here.”
The driver exited the car, circled the trunk, and opened her door.
“Thank you,” she murmured, tucking a folded bill into his front jacket pocket.
That brightened his mood considerably, and he dipped his chin. “You’re most welcome.”
Midas ducked out onto the sidewalk behind her and filled his lungs with fresh night air.
“Move it.” Ford shoved him in the spine. “I want out too.”
Joining Hadley on the sidewalk, he gave Ford enough room to soothe his twitchy inner beast.
The driver sniffed at them, bowed to Hadley, then got in the car and left.
Ford growled at the receding taillights. “He wouldn’t even look at us.”
“Trust me, you’re in good company.” Wry amusement kicked up Hadley’s lips. “He wouldn’t have looked at me either if he had a clue I’m not High Society.”
“You’re the potentate’s apprentice,” Ford argued. “I figured that’s why he was deferential.”
“Uh, no.” She chuckled and started walking toward their final destination. “Linus told him I was a friend, which is how we got the car service in the first place. The driver made the assumption that Linus would only have High Society friends, and we didn’t bother correcting him.”
“That’s ten kinds of messed up, darlin’.”
“That’s the Society for you.” Her smile spread. “Whenever I get good and offended by the disparagement, I fantasize about the Low Society rising up against their High Society overlords.” She laughed. “But that will never happen. They have magic, and we don’t. It wouldn’t be a fair fight. More like a slaughter.”
“You might want to keep that fantasy under your hat when you’re around Linus.”
“Linus and Grier are well aware of the inequalities of the system we were born into, and they thwart it at every opportunity with their progressivism, but they only get away with being eccentric because they’re both stupid powerful and filthy rich.”
“I haven’t noticed a status gap as much in Atlanta.” Midas frowned. “Is that your doing?”
Shifters adored her for treating them like people, with thoughts, dreams, feelings. He could picture the Low Society embracing a woman who broke through the glass ceiling with gusto too.
“As much as I would love to take credit for it, Atlanta isn’t as deep in the Society’s pocket as Savannah. They’re old school there. Makes sense, with the Lyceum downtown and all. Atlanta is more of a melting pot, and it allows those class lines to blur.”
A peculiar tang in the air hit the back of Midas’s throat, and he motioned for the others to slow.
Glancing at Ford, he asked, “Do you smell that?”
The comment perked Ambrose’s ears, and Hadley’s shadow crept across the pavement before them.
“No.” For
d shook his head. “I’ll have to get closer.”
“Don’t leave me hanging.” Hadley closed her hand over Midas’s upper arm. “What is it?”
“Blood.” He flared his nostrils, but the scent didn’t fade. “And black magic.”
Her nails dug in, almost piercing his skin. “That’s not unexpected, right?”
The question she asked wasn’t the one she wanted answered, and he came up empty on platitudes.
“The coven leaves behind a stain wherever they go,” Ford said, sparing him. “That’s a fact.”
“They also leave wards behind.” She stared ahead. “Nasty ones.”
“Are you sure you want to go in?” Midas cupped her cheek. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes,” she said, withdrawing with a wane smile. “I do.”
Part of her stubborn determination stemmed from a responsibility to her family, and he respected that. A larger portion of her disliked leaning on anyone, him included, out of fear everything she had worked for would be snatched out of her hands if she showed any signs of weakness. That part broke his heart.
The shadow reappeared in a blink and stabbed through her temple, causing her to wobble to one side.
Midas sent Ford ahead to scout, and to cover for her.
“Bastard,” she growled, impressing him with its grit. “I hope you choke on your bonbons.”
After flinging candies into the void, she took a moment to get steady.
“There’s a ward up ahead,” she gritted out between her teeth. “He’s confirmed the magical signature.”
“The coven’s work?”
“Oh, yes.”
Magic was outside his realm of expertise, but he trusted her skills. “Can you bring it down?”
“The question is almost never can I, but should I.” Her expression tightened. “Ambrose eats the energy. That’s what causes the wards I disassemble to fail. He’s at his deadliest on a full stomach, and it gives him enough power to sway my thoughts toward actions he wants me to take. Nothing major, I would catch on too quickly, but minor things I might not notice until it’s too late.”
The line he was asking her to walk was thin. Too thin. “Can he tell if anyone is in there?”
“The ward is too repellent for him to get a deep read.”
“We can still call Linus or Grier,” he offered. “They could be here in a half hour or less.”
“Waiting is too risky now that we’re here. We’re racing the clock. We have to move forward.”
Either Ares was in there and things were about to get bloody, or she wasn’t and things might be about to blow up in their faces. As much as he hated to put Hadley at risk, he agreed with her assessment.
“How can I help with Ambrose?” He fell in step with her as they caught up to Ford. “If it gets bad?”
“Force me to expend the energy. Once he’s drained, he’ll be docile again. Well, as docile as he gets.”
They got within spitting distance of Ford, and Hadley fell silent on the topic of her shadow half.
“I’m picking up two familiar scents,” Ford reported to them. “Ares and Liz have been here. Recently.”
Proof the couple was working together? Or evidence Ares had taken Liz as a hostage? Or as a host?
Drawing in deep breaths, Midas confirmed Ford’s assessment. “Do your best to minimalize casualties.”
“Stay alive.” Ford gave each of their shoulders a squeeze. “I expect to live to see mini Hadases.”
Hadley blinked at him. “Mini what?”
“Midleys?” Ford tried again. “Do you not know what happens when a boy gwyllgi and a girl—”
“We’re not having this conversation.” Hadley slapped a hand over his mouth. “Focus, Ford, or we’ll start ribbing you about mini Lisords.”
“Or Forbeths,” Midas tacked on. “Get your head in the game, Ford.”
“I don’t know if I can.” He appeared disturbed. “It sounded like you said lizards, and now I keep picturing Lisbeth and my heads on baby lizard bodies.” A shudder rolled through him. “Thanks for ruining procreation for me.”
Tipping the brim of an imaginary hat, she drawled, “You’re welcome, partner.”
Brows lowered, he glowered at her. “Cowboy jokes, really?”
“Hey,” she countered, “it got your mind off the lizard babies, didn’t it?”
Fourteen
We all knew what the others were up to, but we indulged one another in procrastinating a minute longer. It was easier to joke than to focus on whatever awaited us. It was easier to pretend than to face an ugly reality. But we didn’t have time for it, and my impatience won out in the end.
Certain they would follow, I strode toward the building. I didn’t slow to unsheathe my swords from Ambrose’s nebulous mass. I couldn’t risk stopping now that I had gained momentum. The urge to put off what I was about to discover about my family, about my friend, preyed on me.
The ward registered as a tingle over my skin, a gentle force nudging me back and away.
Ambrose strode beside me, curious, and I didn’t trust this weird dynamic duo vibe he was going for.
The shadow pointed a long finger, and I felt a magical pressure increase before I grasped his meaning.
The coven had used concentric wards at the meat packing plant too. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, I guess.
“Don’t come any closer,” I told the guys. “Let me see if I can get this ward down first.”
The space was also necessary to chat with Ambrose without giving myself away to Ford.
“Do you see the anchor?” I walked the perimeter as Ambrose searched. “Let’s go deeper.”
We passed through two more layers, each more viscous than the last, and then I felt a primal tug.
“There.” I crouched near a crumpled soda can. “That’s it.”
Polite as you please, Ambrose knelt beside me and waited to see what I wanted him to do.
“Take it down.” I flicked my hand. “We have no choice.”
Rather than his usual antics, Ambrose simply placed a hand on the can’s shadow and inhaled its essence. He took his treat for good behavior then went to clear the rest of the area for magical traps or alarms.
Ears popping as the ward dropped, I rubbed them before turning to Midas and Ford. “We’re clear.”
Midas took my elbow a second later and helped me stand. Ford wasn’t far behind him.
There was a dawning knowledge in Ford’s eyes that worried me, but it faded so fast, I figured it must be paranoia catching up with me again. As if it ever left my side these days.
All too soon, I was cupping the doorknob in my palm and wishing it was locked or bolted or welded shut. I wanted more time to believe, to hope, but it was warm, dented, scratched, and…it turned easily when I twisted my wrist.
Hot air exhaled in my face, and I gagged on the stench. I wished I couldn’t identify the scents, but I knew each by heart. People had stayed here, in the heat, their bodies ripe, with no access to working facilities. That didn’t mean it was the people we were searching for, not in this neighborhood. The homeless had a tendency to den up wherever they could for as long as they could, until they got caught or arrested, and this place had all the earmarks of having been used for just that purpose.
The lobby had tears filling my eyes from the onionlike foulness, but it got worse the deeper we ventured into the clinic until I wished I had brought Vicks to wipe under my nose. I didn’t know how the gwyllgi could stand it. It must be killing them to keep going while their keen senses were assaulted by squalor.
We cleared the restrooms, which were…yeah…about as disgusting I had expected with no running water to flush the multiple contributions that had been made over the last few days or weeks.
A large room that might have been an office yielded better results, or at least less disgusting ones.
Supplies were stacked high against the far wall, several cases of water and wholesale protein bars. Toilet paper, wet wipes,
and basic hygiene materials. That might have sparked hope, had any of them been opened. I reminded myself they were delivered yesterday, that they might not be needed yet, but I was appalled by the conditions around me and terrified of what else we would discover.
Midas gripped my shoulder in silent support then jerked his chin toward the hall.
I nodded back, tightened my hands on my swords, and began kicking open doors to the individual exam rooms. The first three were cramped, filthy, and empty of everything but waste—human and otherwise. The fourth held strong beneath my shoe, and contact sent a zing of recognition through me.
“Ward,” I mouthed to Midas, then I swept out my arm to usher the guys behind me.
I didn’t have to ask Ambrose twice. He attacked the door with gusto, feasting on its residual magic. Energy tingled under my skin when he finished, and he rubbed his belly with satisfaction. For his power to be spilling over into me, he was flush, and that was more dangerous than anything we had faced yet.
Bracing for the worst, I kicked open the door, and it slammed against the wall, pinned by the knob piercing the sheetrock. Across the room, propped in a corner, sat Addie.
Pupils blown wide, her eyes unfocused, Addie trembled. Her hands shook in her lap, jittery like an addict in withdrawal, and her shoulders twitched. Her teeth chattered, and she shivered as if she were freezing in the muggy room.
No two ways about it. She had been drugged into a stupor and didn’t recognize help had finally arrived.
A hard lurch of my heart propelled me forward while Midas growled a warning at my back, but I couldn’t leave her there. I couldn’t bear to see her so drawn and pale. I rushed to her, hit my knees at her side, and stifled a yelp when she punched me in the jaw hard enough I saw stars.
“You’re not Hadley,” she snarled. “Get the fuck out.”
Perfect. Wonderful. Fantastic even. Just marvelous.
The coven must have cobbled together a shoestring glamour to play mind games with their prisoners. The simple illusion wouldn’t fool anyone who knew me for long, and it wouldn’t trick a gwyllgi nose at all, but drugs, depravation, and darkness went a long way toward smoothing out the wrinkles in any disguise.
Proof of Life (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 4) Page 17