Grave Dance (20 page)

the walk back didn’t take half the time the drive had. Roy fol owed, his hands bal ed in the front pockets of his shimmering jeans, but his head snapped back and forth as if he thought a col ector might descend on him at any moment. When we crossed Lenore he lost his nerve completely.

“I’l catch back up with you later,” he said. Then he vanished without waiting for me to say good-bye.

I tugged the bil of my cap down and avoided meeting anyone’s gaze as Tamara and I reached the edge of the gathered crowd. Not that anyone was looking around the crowd—everyone wanted to see the tear.

crowd—everyone wanted to see the tear.

“So you have a plan to get us to the front of this crowd, not to mention behind that gate?” Tamara asked as we joined the onlookers.

I shrugged. “I met Bel once.”

“Yeah? And did you get on wel enough that he’s likely to let us pass?” The tone she used betrayed the fact that she anticipated a no, and I didn’t need to reflect on my short conversation with Bel in his limo to know she was right.

Tamara stood on her toes, her neck straining as she peered around the shoulders of the people in front of us. In my boots, I was as tal as or tal er than al but the tal est men in the crowd, so I didn’t have to strain to see over people like Tamara did. I strained to see, period, though the media and security lights helped.

Bel had obviously intended to invest in some sort of industrial enterprise, but judging by the vacant lot, he had never gotten around to moving forward with the project. A nine-foot chain-link fence ringed the property, but it was an old fence, rusted and dilapidated. One section of it had fal en completely, and it looked like people had been using the opening as a path for years. Two of Bel ’s thugs guarded the opening, stopping anyone who pressed too close, and Bel ’s lawyers held the front gate.

“There has never been any legislation put in place making it il egal to own an opening into the Aetheric. Unless you return with a warrant, you have no grounds for entering this property,” a middle-aged man with flame red hair the same color as Hol y’s said to a uniformed officer as we wove our way nearer the front gate. Hol y’s father was a big-shot defense attorney with a high-powered client list, and while I’d never met him—Hol y’s relationship with her father was almost as screwed up as mine, one of the many reasons Hol y and I got along so wel —I had the feeling we were looking at him now.

I touched Tamara’s shoulder and pointed to a clearer spot about twenty feet away. Most of the crowd had spot about twenty feet away. Most of the crowd had gathered around the front gate, so we might see more if we moved farther along the fence. Excusing ourselves as we stepped around people, we slipped through the crowd. I kept my head down as we passed cops and reporters, but they weren’t paying us any attention. We managed to find a better spot right up against the fence, but between my ruined vision and the flashing police lights blowing any shot I had of my eyes adjusting to the darkness, I couldn’t see a thing more than a yard or two into the vacant lot.

“Can you see the tear?” I asked, leaning closer to Tamara.

“Yeah, a little, and Alex, I don’t like this. Those skimmers are drawing raw Aetheric energy with no filtering and minimal training. I don’t even think they’ve drawn a protective circle.” She shook her head in disbelief. “The raw magic filtering through the air is throwing off my senses, but I’m not sensing a circle at al . Lots of other spel s, though.”

Yeah, I was picking up on that too. Magic was everywhere. Most of the crowd wore charms, Bel ’s security had laid down a perimeter ward along the gate so they’d know if anyone tried to sneak in, and beyond the gate . . . I let my senses reach out, trying to sift through the magic in the air. I closed my eyes, stretching my senses, and a hand closed on my biceps. I yelped, my eyes flying open.

“What are you doing here?” a familiar and none too happy voice asked.

“Falin.”
Busted.
I turned to face him. “Hey, yeah, about that . . .” I told him about spotting the rune when Channel 6

reran Lusa’s footage and about the assumptions I’d made from there, as wel as my thoughts on the soul col ector’s presence. His pissed expression didn’t change through my explanation, and I ended with a shrug. “It seemed like it was worth the risk.”

“It might be enough for us to get a warrant,” he admitted after a moment’s hesitation, and his grip on my biceps loosened. “Now you should get out of here.” He wrapped an loosened. “Now you should get out of here.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders as he tried to steer me away from Tamara and the fence. “Come on. I’l take you home and cal about the warrant on the way.”

“No, you won’t,” I said, but he was already dragging me forward. I glanced over my shoulder at Tamara, who looked unsure if she should interfere or not. “I’l be right back,” I told her before turning to Falin again. I was okay with him leading me to where other people couldn’t hear us discuss

—okay,
argue
—about why I needed to stay—after al , there were aspects of my life I wasn’t sharing with my friends, let alone strangers—but I wasn’t about to leave. “I came here to—”

I didn’t get a chance to finish as a female voice, smooth and camera-ready, said, “Alex Craft.”

Crap.
I didn’t bother smiling as I glanced toward the voice. “Lusa.” And her cameraman, of course.
What, do I
have a sign over my head attracting everyone I’d rather
avoid?

I’d no sooner had that thought than I spotted Agent Nori in the crowd. Luckily, she at least wasn’t looking my way.

“So, what brings you to the river tonight, Miss Craft?”

Lusa asked, pushing a mic toward me.

“I could ask you the same question.”

She smiled. “A story. You?”

I glanced from the mic in my face to the blinking red light on the camera. “I imagine the same thing as everyone else.” I nodded toward where I imagined the tear was located. The tear wasn’t the ful reason I was here, but it was
one
of the reasons.

Unfortunately, Lusa seemed to realize that. “No,” she said. “There is more to it than that. You know something, and I’m betting it’s newsworthy. I’ve got a nose for this type of thing.”

I scoffed under my breath. “Lusa, I doubt your nose is real.”

Her perfectly straight teeth clicked audibly, and color Her perfectly straight teeth clicked audibly, and color bloomed in her cheeks. The color faded again instantly, her camera-ready persona snapping back in place.

“Wel , how about this,” she said, dropping her mic to her side. “How about I run my next story with the spin ‘Alex Craft seen poking around the scene, likely checking what damage her latest tear into the Aetheric is causing’ ? ”

At my side, Falin stiffened, his fingers digging into my shoulder hard enough to hurt, though I didn’t think he was aware he’d tightened his grip. I fought wincing—which would have looked like guilt to the camera—and tried to step out of his grasp. It didn’t work; he might as wel have turned into a solid ice sculpture.

“You can’t run that story,” he said, his voice a low warning.

“Detective Andrews, the public has the right to the truth.”

“Except that isn’t the truth. I didn’t open that tear.”

“Wel , the public also has the right to draw their own conclusions.” She smiled, a big, hungry display of teeth.

“You can’t run that story. I’ve already been pul ed off the street once by someone who wanted me to open a hole to the Aetheric.” I was appealing to her better nature, which I wasn’t sure she stil had under her reporter instincts, but it was Falin who responded to my words.

He stepped around me, his eyes catching, and locking, on mine. Right—I hadn’t told him about my little
chat
with Bel . Not that now was the time to go into it. I focused on Lusa, who seemed much less concerned about my safety.

“Give me a better story and I’l run with it instead.”

“I can’t just conjure up a story.”

“Wel , then, I guess I already have my sound bite.”

I glared at her. “You broke a major story when you discovered the tear—which I’d love to learn how you found, by the way, because
that
little tidbit wasn’t in your broadcast and I can’t see you heading out this evening thinking, ‘I know, I’l go poke around abandoned warehouse lots and see if a story turns up.’ Especial y not in those lots and see if a story turns up.’ Especial y not in those heels.” I nodded at her purple slingbacks. “You got your story, and because of Bel ’s barricade,
Witch Watch
is the only show that has footage of the rip up close. So why do you have to put a target over my head just to ride the coattails of your own success?”

“The tear wil be old news soon unless I dig up something to add as a new development. My original footage is already viral and streaming from countless places on the Net. I need something fresh. Now I imagine you’re here for one of the cases you’re working.” She lifted the hand holding her mic, not to shove the mic in my face but to point at me with one of her perfectly manicured nails. “Scratch my back and I’l scratch yours. And because you asked, I’l tel you how I found the tear—that is, as long as what you give me is good.”

I glanced at Falin. He scowled at Lusa, his face hard, ungiving, and total y unreceptive to her idea. I, on the other hand, was inclined to capitulate. I’d worked with Lusa before, and I knew she kept her word. Which meant she’d help me out if I helped her, but it also meant she wasn’t kidding about using me as a sound bite. But perhaps more important than that, while the woman could be extremely irritating if you were the story she’d latched on to, she was a damn fine researcher and investigative journalist.

And I happened to have a page ful of runes I needed researched.

“Off the record,” I said, nodding at the blinking light on the camera behind Lusa.

“Micky, take a break,” Lusa said, handing her mic to her cameraman. “Come on, Craft. There are fewer people closer to the bridge.”

I started to fol ow her, but Falin grabbed my arm, stal ing me.

“You real y think this is the wisest plan?” he asked, his voice a hissed whisper beside my ear.

I considered the decision again, staring at him as I tried I considered the decision again, staring at him as I tried to puzzle out which part he objected to. I hadn’t learned anything from the file he took from the FIB office, so it wasn’t like he could say any of the information I had on the case was privileged—everything I had I’d learned myself, mostly just by living through the events. Runes were witch magic, so though the glamour proved the constructs had some tie to the fae, the individual runes didn’t, so sharing them didn’t breach any rules about “issues best kept amongst the fae” as Malik had put it. No, I didn’t see anything at al he could object to about my sharing the runes with Lusa.

“I’m sure.” In fact, I didn’t see any downside. If I gave her the runes and she turned up nothing, then I’d lost nothing.

But if she did find something . . . wel , that could be very beneficial.

Falin continued to frown and Lusa sauntered back to us.

She pursed her lips. She hadn’t heard what we’d said, but our body language probably told her al she needed to know about our conversation.

“Detective Andrews,” she said, studying him, “I heard you were jettisoned from the force for going MIA during the Coleman case.”

Falin didn’t answer, but pul ed his jacket aside to reveal the FIB shield at his waist.

“My mistake, Agent,” she said before turning back to me.

“Are we stil on for a little tit for tat?”

“Yeah. I’l be right there.” I shot her a smile and then focused on Falin again. “It’s a good idea,” I told him.

“Weren’t you going to get a warrant?”

“I’m more concerned with getting you out of here.”

And I was more concerned with my friends not spending a moment longer than necessary carrying some shadowy, crystal ized spel that was just waiting to overwhelm them at an unknown moment.

“I’l keep my head down,” I promised.

He huffed out a breath and rol ed his eyes. “Because He huffed out a breath and rol ed his eyes. “Because you’re
so
good at that.”

As if to accent his point, Lusa chose that moment to turn and cal out, “Miss Craft.”

Falin and I both cringed. Okay, so keeping my head down wasn’t one of my strong suits.

“I have to go,” I said, and then jogged to catch up with Lusa. Falin didn’t stop me this time.

Lusa headed away from the news vans and cop cars to where the fence ended at the steel supports of the Lenore Street Bridge. The traffic on Lenore had died down.

Everyone who was interested in seeing the commotion had apparently already arrived, so the bridge was stil , quiet, and rather dark. Safety lights dotted the span at evenly spaced intervals, but I could have wished for a little more light, especial y as Lusa trudged deeper and the bridge towered over us.

I had to say one thing for her—I’d told her I wanted this off the books, and she’d found a place where no one was likely to overhear or disturb us. And she wasn’t done yet. Once we stopped, she fished a silver necklace from the top of her blouse, pul ing the chain until a half dozen charms spil ed over her col ar. The air around us hummed as she tapped into the raw magic in her earrings and channeled it into one of her waiting charms. A spel buzzed to life around us.

“You’re a sensitive, right?” she asked and I nodded.

“Good, then you know that I activated a privacy bubble.

No one but us can hear what we say. Now, why are you real y here?”

I’d rather have heard how she found the hole in reality first, but I wasn’t in a position to demand she show me hers before I showed her mine. Opening my purse, I dug out the page of runes I’d copied. Then I unfolded the paper and passed it to Lusa.

“Those are sketches of runes from a magical construct.

As you can probably tel , they aren’t exactly common. When I watched your broadcast, I noticed similar runes cut into the I watched your broadcast, I noticed similar runes cut into the ground around the tear. My theory is that whoever sent the construct also cast the ritual that opened that tear. I’m here to prove that theory, and to find out anything I can about the witch who is responsible.”