Lasting Fury (Hexing House Book 2) (18 page)

“You? Irritating?”

He ignored the jab. “I was never there in person, but they probably have a file on me with a picture in it. Somebody might recognize me. Why can’t you go?”

She huffed. “Because they would definitely recognize me.”

“But you have this magical illusion thing.”

“It only makes me look like my human self,” Thea said. “Also recognizable.”

“Okay, so who would be a stranger to them?” Holgersen asked. “And still care enough about all this to be willing to put themselves on the line?”

Thea smiled as a flash of inspiration hit. “They wouldn’t be strangers, exactly, but one of the Bowmans would work.”

Thea met Holgersen at the Bowman house the next day. She didn’t bother with all the trouble of getting a human illusion and driving; they were going to have to learn the truth about furies anyway. Holgersen had agreed to go half an hour earlier, to prepare them.

And they took it pretty well, all things considered. They accepted Thea’s existence without much outward difficulty. Marshal was a bit standoffish, but that could just as easily have been because Thea had threatened him with her claws the last time they’d met. Laurel tried to be a good hostess, asking Thea whether “her kind” drank tea, and directing her to the chair she thought would leave the most space for her wings.

So, over sweet tea and lemon cake, Thea told them about the superhex and the Ninth Disorder, and about what had really happened to the Lexington family.

They seemed almost as relieved as they were angry.

“Well, it is kind of a lot to process, I’ll admit,” Marshal said when she finished.

“But we knew there had to be
some
other explanation,” said Laurel. “We knew Boyd would never do what they said he did.”

“And we’re glad to have anyone telling us the truth,” Marshal added. “Even if it is a mon— er… mythical creature. So thank you.”

“We didn’t come just to tell you the truth,” Thea said. “We knew you’d want justice for Boyd. You can help us prove they framed him as part of their cover-up.”

“How?” Laurel asked.

“We want one of you—or even both, if you’re more comfortable—to go there, posing as potential clients,” Thea said. “Detective Holgersen can suit you up with a wire, or whatever the current technology for that is—”

“No wires involved,” Holgersen interjected. “You’d wear a very unobtrusive device. We could disguise it as jewelry or the like.” He was using his flat cop voice, the one he’d used when Thea had first met him, when she’d concluded he was either an iceman or a robot. Now that she knew him a little better, she wondered whether she should feel flattered that he’d let her see him lose his temper so many times since.

“We couldn’t just use our cell phones?” Laurel asked.

“They’ll most likely take those away from you,” Thea said. “We do, when human clients come in. To keep you from recording or taking pictures without permission.”

“And once we got in there, what would we talk about?” Marshal asked. “Are we ourselves, or do we have made-up identities?”

“Yourselves,” said Thea. “Make them think you blame Hexing House for everything. Hemlock Heights, the cover-up, Boyd and his family. You can’t stand that we got away with it. You want revenge. You want to curse the whole colony—every one of us. The scale is the important thing. It’s got to be clear that individual hexes would be inefficient at best.”

“But don’t mention the superhex specifically,” Holgersen added. “That might be too suspicious. Let them come around to offering you that.”

They’d disagreed on that point; Thea thought it was plausible that Boyd’s family might have heard of the superhex, and didn’t see any reason they couldn’t ask for it directly. But she would let Holgersen try it his way. He was, after all, the one with experience catching criminals.

The Bowmans agreed to the plan. Thea called her office to tell them that Aunt Bridget was sick, and took a few personal days off work. Then she called Flannery to make sure her cousin wouldn’t contradict that story.

“But what are you doing really?” Flannery asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Thea said. “I’m sorry, but it’s for your own good. I don’t want to risk you getting into trouble when you’re so new. How are your exploratories going, by the way?”

“Fine,” Flannery said. “And that’s a nice change of subject. Does this have anything to do with the fight you had with Alecto at the funeral?”

“Flan, I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to get into it.”

“Can you at least tell me if it’s dangerous?”

Thea bit her lip, then decided to tell her cousin the truth about that much, at least. “It might be.”

Flannery sighed. “Be careful, then.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Holgersen made similar excuses to his own boss, and the Bowmans did the same. They could all be ready to leave by the next morning.

“Alecto won’t trace any of the travel or anything back to you?” Holgersen asked Thea.

Thea shook her head. “I’ve got more than enough money of my own. We’ll use that for whatever we need.”

Holgersen looked curious about that, but he didn’t ask any questions. Thank heavens for small favors. Thea was already edgy enough, without having to explain how Baird had paid her off to hide what he did to her. But she hummed as she went online to book flights for the humans. Now Baird’s hush money could help expose someone else. It seemed fitting.

Despite her assurances to Holgersen that Alecto wouldn’t find out what she was up to, Thea didn’t want to raise suspicions by requisitioning any more human illusions or other resources. The next day, she flew to California on her own, and met the others at the bottom of the mountain road that led up to Fury Unlimited.

The Bowmans went on their own from there in their rented SUV, while Thea and Holgersen stood on the side of the road, hidden in the trees. Holgersen swallowed and kicked at the dirt as he watched them drive away, clearly dreading what they’d already discussed had to come next. Thea bit her lip to keep from smiling.

Without meeting Thea’s eyes he said, “I know I’m short, but are you sure you’ve got this?”

“I’ve got it. I’m stronger than I look. And we’ve been over this. We can’t risk approaching in a vehicle.”

“I know.” He said it the way a kid says
I know
to a parent reminding them of the inevitability of some horrible chore.

Thea laughed. “Let’s get it over with, then.”

She picked Holgersen up, like a groom carrying a bride, and flew not up the mountain but around it, approaching Fury Unlimited from the ocean side. The detective looked intensely uncomfortable with the arrangement, blushing so much Thea could have sworn she could feel the heat coming off him, but he didn’t say a word.

Thea knew the area well, thanks to her investigation, and knew of a little outcropping at the edge of the cliff where they could hide, sheltered from sight, but still close enough to get to the Bowmans quickly. They’d agreed on a code phrase—
there’s something in my eye
—for either Marshal or Laurel to use if they felt they needed intervention.

Holgersen and Thea sat on a stone shelf, huddled together under a roof of solid rock. The detective held something that looked like a small radio between them. He pushed a button and turned a dial. At first all Thea heard was static, but with another couple of adjustments, Laurel’s voice became clear. The recording device, or transmitter, or whatever it was (Thea hadn’t bothered herself much with the technical details) was in one of Laurel’s earrings.

“—appreciate you seeing us,” she was saying.

“Of course. I’m Carson, and this is Olivia.” Thea didn’t recognize Carson’s voice, but just from the depth of it, he sounded big. “I’ll have to ask for your cell phones. It’s a standard security measure. I’m sure you understand.”

“Sure,” said Laurel.

But Marshal, according to the script they’d laid out ahead of time, made a point of balking. “I don’t feel entirely comfortable giving mine up. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend you, but I’m afraid I haven’t got a lot of trust for furies. And we’re a bit helpless without our phones, aren’t we?”

A female fury—presumably Olivia—laughed. “You came to us, Mr. Bowman. We have no reason to harm you, and I promise you, we’re not in the habit of attacking clients. That wouldn’t be very good business, would it?”

“But if it makes you feel any better, you’re welcome to keep any weapons you may have on you,” Carson said. “It’s just the phone we need.”

“I haven’t got any weapons!” Marshal said.

After a bit more back and forth, he gave up the phone. He’d always intended to. The conversation was only meant to distract the furies from any further security screening, and keep their focus on Marshal instead of Laurel (and her earrings).

“Misdirection,” Holgersen had explained when they’d made their plans the day before. “It’s one of the simplest but most powerful tools you have.”

There were standard offers of coffee and water, and then they got down to business. Thea had to hand it to the Bowmans: she’d met professional actors who gave less convincing performances. Laurel in particular played her part like she was born to it.

Still, it took a while for them to bring the furies around to the idea of the superhex. Long enough for Thea to shoot Holgersen several frustrated looks.

“If you’d just let them ask for it directly,” she complained, “we’d be out of here by now—”

“Shh!” Holgersen held up a finger.

“I just don’t feel like buying individual hexes for this Alecto person and her board is very efficient,” Marshal said. “For one thing, unless you’ve got a way to hit all of them at the exact same time, some of them might know it’s coming and avoid it.”

“And besides, I want the whole nest of them to suffer,” Laurel added.

“Colony,” Olivia corrected.

“Haven’t you got some sort of group discount plan?” Marshal asked.

Carson sighed. “Actually, quite the opposite. There may be a solution, but it would most likely cost more, not less.”

“We do have a sort of blanket hex that could be put over the whole campus,” Olivia said slowly, and Holgersen grinned at Thea.

“It’s in the early stages of development, so it’s not something we would normally offer,” said Carson. “But given it’s Hexing House you want to target, we might be able to get approval.”

“Why’s that?” Laurel asked.

Olivia said something Thea couldn’t catch, and Carson cleared his throat. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”

There was a shuffling noise, then the sound of the door opening and closing.

“Did we say something wrong?” Laurel whispered.

“No,” Marshal said softly. “I think they did. I think Carson wasn’t supposed to let on that they’d be more disposed to attack Hexing House than some other target.”

“But what if they— Marshal? Marshal what are you doing?”

There was a thump, then a lot of static. Laurel said Marshal’s name again. More thumps. The sound of skin meeting skin.

At first Thea thought she was hearing a struggle, but then…

“That didn’t sound like the unhappy kind of groan,” she said.

“Are they
kissing
?” Holgersen asked, horrified.

There was a sound of tearing fabric.

“Shit.” Thea scrambled out from under the rock, pulling Holgersen after her. “I’m going to have to carry you again, at least until we get to the building.”

“What’s going on?” Holgersen asked.

“That’s lust you’re hearing,” said Thea. “They’ve been hexed.”

They tried a first-floor fire exit in the back wing, where Thea knew there were residences rather than offices, first. She knew cameras would probably pick them up anyway, but they needed to balance the need for stealth with the need for speed. At least it wasn’t quite as bad as walking through the front door.

Holgersen had his gun—one he owned personally, that wouldn’t be traced back to his department—drawn. Thea had only her claws. She almost wished she’d risked requisitioning a hex or two. But even if she’d been able to come up with a reasonable excuse for wanting them, chances were RDM wouldn’t have let her have any. Hexes, and the enchanted boxes they came in, were the most closely-guarded of the colony’s resources.

In any case, her anxiety was unwarranted. Holgersen didn’t need his gun, and Thea didn’t need even her claws, much less a hex. They could just as easily have walked through the front door, after all.

The part of the building they came into was abandoned, but as they worked their way quickly toward the front, it became clear that whatever had been done to the Bowmans hadn’t been done only to them.

Screams and cries of pain reverberated through the halls. Several furies ran here and there. Others were prone on the carpet.

Some were manifesting sins, in a scene much like what Thea had seen at Hemlock Heights. But more of them just seemed ill. Thea stopped at an intersection of hallways, where a fury she recognized was propped up against a closed door, sweating profusely and crying.

Thea knelt in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. “Delia.” She gave her a little shake. “Delia! What’s happened to you?”

Delia turned her head—Thea was grateful for that much, at least—and threw up. Thea jumped back to her feet.

“What is going on?” Holgersen asked.

“They didn’t catch Laurel and Marshal,” said Thea. “This is Alecto’s doing. She’s hexed the entire colony.” She looked askance at the pile of Delia’s vomit. “Or done something to them, anyway. I’ve never actually seen a hex like this. But I guess she got that info she needed on the ventilation system.”

Holgersen yanked the collar of his jacket up over his nose, but Thea put a hand on his arm.

“Don’t bother. Blanket hexes dissipate very quickly. This was gone by the time we got inside.”

“But you just said you couldn’t be sure it was a hex,” Holgersen pointed out.

Thea shrugged. “If it was going to hit us, I think it would have already. And if it
is
a hex, a blanket hex like the superhex, the effects will probably pass pretty quickly, too. Meaning we need to move fast, while they’re too distracted to pay attention to us.”

Holgersen kept his jacket over the lower half of his face anyway.

Ignoring all the chaos, and reasoning that the nice conference rooms for clients were probably near the main entrance someplace, Thea led Holgersen toward the front of the building to start there and work their way backward.

They found the Bowmans in the third room they tried. There was no sign of Carson or Olivia.

Laurel and Marshal were in what Thea could only describe as no condition to be interrupted.

Thea whirled back around toward the door to spare herself the sight, grabbing Holgersen’s shoulder and turning him with her.

“Well, at least they both got hit with lust,” Thea said quietly. “If only one got lust and the other got, say, wrath, it might have gotten ugly.”

“Uglier than that?” Holgersen looked over his shoulder and made a face.

Thea sighed. “I’ll handle it. I lived in L.A. for a few years, and with celebrities, besides. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to pull a couple apart.”

A few minutes later, Thea and Holgersen once again had their backs turned to the Bowmans, while Laurel and Marshal, red-faced and horrified, hastily righted their clothing.

The hex, still assuming that was what it was, seemed to be wearing off throughout Fury Unlimited. The cries in the halls were becoming sharper and more lucid.

“We need to go,” Thea said. “Our window for getting out unnoticed is closing fast.”

She barely finished the sentence before a buzzing noise—so loud Thea had to resist the urge to cover her ears—rang through the building, followed by several clanging sounds.

“What was that?” Marshal asked.

“I think it was the sound of our window closing,” answered Holgersen.

Thea looked around. “And no actual windows to be found.”

“So what do we do?” Laurel asked. “Just walk out?”

“You two do,” Thea said. “You were here when the attack happened, you were hit yourselves. They’ll have no reason to be suspicious of you. The detective and I will have to find another way out.”

Holgersen nodded at the ceiling. “Could you get the two of us through that vent?” he asked Thea.

“I think so.” Thea turned to Marshal and Laurel. “Holgersen and I will lay low and figure out a way out. You two keep up the act, fake a little outrage—”

“Not sure it’ll be all that fake,” Marshal muttered.

“—and meet us at the bottom of the road, like we planned,” Thea finished.

But Laurel was shaking her head frantically. “They’ll know. They’ll suspect us.”

Thea put a hand on Laurel’s arm. “They won’t. It’ll be okay. You were doing great. Just keep it up a little while longer.”

Laurel was pale and clearly shaken. Marshal stood silent, his lips almost invisible in the tight line of his mouth. But neither of those would be unusual reactions to what had just happened to them. No matter how strange they acted, the furies would have no cause to suspect it was anything other than the result of the attack.

“You can do this,” Thea assured them. “You’ll have this place behind you in ten minutes. They’ll have no reason to hold a couple of humans when they’ve just been hexed. In fact, potential clients are probably the last people they want seeing this moment of weakness.”

“But they might search you first, just for the sake of their security checklist,” Holgersen said. “Here Laurel, why don’t you give me your earrings, just in case?”

“Good idea.” Laurel handed them over, then took several deep breaths.

“Okay,” Thea said. “Chances are they’ve forgotten about you, but they’ll be searching the place. We need to move. Go out into the hall and start shouting and raising a fuss. Keep them focused on you, so they won’t bother worrying about the room you came out of.”

“Misdirection, remember?” said Holgersen.

Laurel gave him a thin smile. “Okay.”

“Good luck,” Marshal said with a nod. He hadn’t quite met Thea’s eyes since she’d tugged him off his wife and slapped his face to get his attention. Understandable, but now was not the time to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault and there was no need to be embarrassed.

“You too,” Thea said. “See you in a bit.”

Marshal and Laurel left the room just in time; as soon as they walked into the hall, Thea heard a deep, throaty voice challenging them.

Luckily, Holgersen had an army knife with a tiny screwdriver. As quickly and silently as he could, he took the cover off the vent. After that, getting into the duct was relatively easy.

There were still voices in the hall. They pulled the vent cover up with them and left it, hoping that if the room was searched, somehow the gaping hole in the ceiling would escape notice.

Thea took the lead. The duct was tall enough to crawl through without having to get on her belly, thank goodness, but it was narrow enough to be a problem for her wings. She tucked them in as closely as she could, but there was no doubt the scraping noise they made against the metal walls would be noticeable.

They stopped at the first vent they came to, while Thea inched forward to peer through the grate into the room below. There were heads visible, and a murmur of voices. They waited until both were gone, then she risked another look, craning her neck to try to see the walls, looking for a window she might be able to fly them through. When she couldn’t find one, they moved on.

And on. And on again. It must have been at least an hour of furtive crawling, looking, and waiting, Thea getting sweatier and thirstier all the while, before they found a room with a likely window.

“How the hell are we supposed to get this cover off?” she whispered to Holgersen, but he was already motioning for her to crawl past it so he could get to it.

Holgersen rolled over onto his back and kicked both feet down once, twice, three times, until the vent cover went crashing into the room below.

Thea was aghast at the noise he’d made (and a little impressed by his strength), but given that it had probably just called a shitstorm of security down on them, decided not to take the time to scold him for it.

She jumped down, stretching her wings and enjoying a moment of cool air, then reached up to help Holgersen. This was the fourth time that day, by her count, that she’d carried him, and he didn’t look like he was getting any happier about it.

Thea rushed for the window, the details of the room a blur around her, although she caught enough to think it might have been part of a residence. That was good. If they’d made it that far into the back of the building, they might actually be able to escape unnoticed. Maybe nobody had even heard the racket Holgersen had just made.

She was still feeling that hope, the rising excitement of victory within her grasp, when she reached the window.

And something not quite like a gunshot sounded in the room. And a dart lodged itself in her neck.

So much for victory.

Thea remembered only disjointed bits of what came next.

Holgersen and three security guards, pointing guns at each other, faces contorted and mouths moving like they were shouting, although Thea’s ears were ringing and oddly numb. Holgersen was outnumbered, and one of them flanked him. He gave up his gun.

A long hallway. A stairwell that smelled of urine.

A fury, spitting at her.

She wasn’t conscious of any pain, but she felt dizzy and faint, her vision narrowing to a dark tunnel. She couldn’t think.

The next thing Thea knew, she was sitting at a long table, with Megaira and five other furies who must have been her board.

There was a fresh stinging pain in Thea’s neck. Another needle. Another drug? An antidote, maybe.

Megaira’s mouth was moving, but Thea still couldn’t hear a thing.

And then her mind snapped back into focus, although she had a blistering headache. She was in Megaira’s own conference room, the same one where they had watched the tragedy at Hemlock Heights begin.

Thea was in a chair beside Holgersen, who looked pissed off but unharmed. Both of them were cuffed, and her wings were chained together by the talons.

“There she is,” Megaira said. “Thea, this will be quicker for you if you tell the truth. Did you do this on your own, or did Alecto send you?”

This. It. What does she mean?

Apparently Thea wasn’t thinking quite as straight as she thought, because she looked stupidly around the room, searching for the Bowmans. Had they caught them? Or had they found the recording device Thea and Holgersen had left hidden in the rocks at the cliffside?

“Thea,” Megaira repeated, a warning in her voice. “Did my sister send you to hex us, or not?”

Of course she means the hex, you idiot.

“No,” Thea said honestly.

Megaira steepled her fingers and sat back in her chair, glaring at Thea. “You really want to take the fall for her?”

Thea’s mind raced as she tried to decide what to do.

Did
she want to take the fall?

If Thea let Megaira think the attack was some kind of rogue action on her part, Megaira would take her wings, for sure. And probably kill her.

But on the other hand, if Megaira thought the hex had been an official act, she would take her revenge on all of Hexing House. It would start an outright war, with a colony that had horrible weapons at their disposal. Dozens of furies—Thea’s friends included—would be hurt. Some would die.

Alecto, you stupid fucking bitch.

“Alecto didn’t send me,” Thea said. “Nobody at Hexing House knows I’m here.” Still the truth, even if it did suggest a lie. For now, she would be as vague as possible, while she tried to figure a way out of this.