Magic to the Bone (6 page)

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Authors: Devon Monk

BOOK: Magic to the Bone
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I nodded. My dad was all about efficiency. And things going his way. I’m sure he knew exactly how he was going to make my life miserable since I’d said no to him. ‘‘See you in court.’’
 
 
I walked across the room, past Zayvion, to the door. Made it this time. Got all the way to the receptionist’s desk, then across the half mile of burgundy carpet to the elevator that was wooden and small, too small, far too small, but fast, and even a fast coffin was better than my slow feet right now.
 
 
Once I hit the lobby, I broke into a jog, needing to be through the lobby in a hurry and gone from here, away from my father who seemed to have found a way to lie in a blood-to-blood Truth spell—something I’d never thought possible. I wanted away from the memories of what I wished he could be, and away from the reality of what it meant to fight him for my life. Again.
 
 
I pushed through the big glass-and-iron doors and stopped outside the building, under a dark awning that caught the rain. The cab was not waiting, and I remembered Zayvion told me he’d paid the guy.
 
 
Great.
 
 
I couldn’t decide where I should go next or what I should do.
 
 
The police sounded like a good idea, if I could find someone who wasn’t bought off by my dad. A lawyer sounded like a good idea too, but had the same drawback.
 
 
With any luck, Mama had already called the cops and told them I was Hounding the hit back. With any luck, they would already be starting their investigation.
 
 
Someone had put a hit on Boy, and I knew my dad’s signature was on it. His real signature, not a fake. He had a part in this regardless of the Truth spell.
 
 
Maybe I hadn’t asked the right question. Maybe someone had erased his memory of what he’d done. Memory manipulation was against the law, and deservedly so for how dangerous it was. No, I couldn’t imagine him ever letting someone mess with his mind.
 
 
He must have found a way to lie, to manipulate the Truth spell so even blood magic couldn’t detect it.
 
 
That terrified me, but I believed he could do it.
 
 
He was good at magic, my dad. One of the best.
 
 
I couldn’t figure out what he would gain from putting such a heavy hit on such a little kid, though. It didn’t make sense.
 
 
Zayvion strolled up and stopped next to me, standing so close we were almost touching. His heavy pine cologne smelled really good now, not nearly as strong as before. People wrapped in dark coats and scarves moved around us in a hurry. Zayvion didn’t say anything, didn’t move. Just stared out at the muddied traffic and hazy gray rain like I did. Strangely, knowing my father hired him to tail me made things a little easier—at least I understood why he was following me around.
 
 
‘‘Still on the clock?’’ I asked.
 
 
‘‘Nope. Quit today.’’ He held up a check, tucked it in his coat pocket. ‘‘I don’t get involved in family disputes.’’
 
 
‘‘Right,’’ I said.
 
 
He was quiet, still, patient. I decided I liked that about him.
 
 
‘‘Buy you lunch?’’ he asked.
 
 
‘‘Not hungry.’’
 
 
More quiet, except for the traffic and constant city sounds. A cab pulled up, and it made sense I should take it home. Instead, I just stood there while a short blond woman in a dark green trench coat appeared from the next building and scurried into the backseat. She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on where I might have seen her before. I clenched my fist around the little book in my pocket where I wrote the things that I didn’t want to forget. I needed to record the hit on Boy and the meeting with my dad so I could add them to my files.
 
 
I stopped trying to place where I’d seen the woman and instead watched the cab drive away.
 
 
Zayvion said nothing.
 
 
My whole body was stiff, and standing in the cold wasn’t making anything better. I couldn’t bring myself to give up and go home to my empty apartment. Not yet.
 
 
Could I have been mistaken about my father’s signature? No, I just felt vulnerable right now because dear old Dad had used Influence, and Influence always made me jumpy. I was not going to let him get the best of me like that. Besides, it was still my birthday.
 
 
I looked over at Zayvion. Okay, so he worked for my father. We all make mistakes. At least he had the sense to quit. And he was standing here, beside me right now, not in there with my dad. That suddenly meant a lot to me.
 
 
‘‘How about we get a cup of coffee?’’ I said.
 
 
He looked a little surprised, then smiled that nice smile. ‘‘How about we do.’’
 
 
I tucked my hands in my pockets and we headed down the sidewalk toward a deli I knew about. The coffee wouldn’t be as good as Get Mugged, but it would be hot and dark. Right now that was all I needed.
 
 
While we were there I might even have a chance to find out what Zayvion knew about my father. I owed it to Mama and Boy to follow this trail as long as it was fresh. Going out with Zayvion was all about following the trail, I told myself. This was not a date.
 
 
At the crosswalk, I glanced at Zayvion and decided he looked good in profile too. A strong nose to go with those high cheekbones, and an angle to his jaw I found intriguing. Okay, maybe it really was a little bit like a date.
 
 
He caught me looking. ‘‘What are you thinking, Ms. Beckstrom?’’ he asked.
 
 
My stomach flipped.
 
 
‘‘Nothing,’’ I lied. And we walked the rest of the way in silence.
 
 
Chapter Two
 
 
C
ody did not like the man who came to visit him. The man stood by the door that would not open. The man watched as Cody sat on the floor and rocked. Rocking was good. Rocking made Cody happy. But the man did not make him happy. The man was quiet and had not moved for a long time. And even though Cody tried not to look, he could see what was underneath the man’s skin. Something wriggled and twisted there. Something like worms, but worse. Something bad.
 
 
Cody rocked and rocked and looked at the gray floor. He could not remember how long he had been here, in the room that was just ten steps by ten steps wide. He did remember why he had been brought here. He had been bad. He had used magic wrong. He had used magic and pretended to be somebody else, somebody important and powerful and rich. And he had hurt someone.
 
 
It had been fun to be a powerful man. But it had been wrong. He had to talk to a lady in a black robe. He didn’t tell her that the man by the door had told him he would hurt his friends. He hadn’t told the lady in the black robe the other things the man by the door had made him do with magic. Didn’t tell her all the other people the man had made him pretend to be. Cody was really good at pretending to be people with magic. He was really good at keeping secrets too. Better than any of his friends at home.
 
 
The lady in the black robe had said he was guilty. So now he lived here, in this room. He missed home, and missed his friends who lived with him, and missed bus rides to the park.
 
 
He missed the sky and grass and the wind and the sun. He missed the sun the most.
 
 
But rocking made a little wind. And it made him a little warm, like sitting in sunshine. So he liked rocking. Rocking made him happy.
 
 
He rocked for a long time, but the man did not go away. Pretty soon, Cody couldn’t help himself. He peeked at the man and saw the man’s quiet outside and his twisting, angry inside. The angry thing inside the man looked back at him. It scared him and he didn’t even know what it was.
 
 
A snake, the older, smarter part of him said.
 
 
Cody smiled. He liked it when the older, smarter part of him talked because he was always right. The man was a snake inside. Snake man. Snake man. Snake man. Cody sang it inside his head and he was so happy, he sang it with his mouth too.
 
 
‘‘Snake man, Snake man, bake a cake man.’’
 
 
But that was a bad idea because the Snake man heard him. And the Snake man moved.
 
 
Cody rocked harder, faster. He rocked even though it made his back hurt and he hit his head on the wall behind him and he had to breathe with his mouth open. He rocked faster so he could get away. Get away from the Snake man who was walking now, walking toward him, walking with soft, slow steps, bending down so he could see all the way into his eyes, so close, the Snake man could bite him. The Snake man was angry. But Cody had been really good. He hadn’t told anyone about the Snake man. He had kept all the secrets.
 
 
The Snake man reached out and put his hand on Cody’s shoulder. His fingers squeezed.
 
 
Cody didn’t want to stop rocking. He liked the heat, he liked the wind. He didn’t want to stop and have to just be here, in the room that didn’t have a sky. But the Snake man’s hand made him stop rocking. It made him stop breathing hard. It made him stop everything.
 
 
Don’t look, the older, smarter part of him said.
 
 
But Cody had to look. The Snake man made him look, all the way into his snake eyes. All the way into the twisting, burning magic under his skin. And he could not look away.
 
 
‘‘Hello, Cody. Do you remember me?’’
 
 
Cody did remember him. He remembered everything about him. He nodded.
 
 
‘‘Good.’’ The Snake man smiled, but only on his outside. On his inside he twisted and burned.
 
 
‘‘You did such a good job keeping our secret. Now I have a surprise for you.’’
 
 
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a very small, gray kitten.
 
 
‘‘Oh,’’ Cody said, happy now, happier than he ever had been his whole life. He unlocked his hands from around his knees.
 
 
Don’t, said the older, smarter part of him.
 
 
‘‘Go ahead,’’ Snake man said. ‘‘She’s yours. A friend.’’ Snake man held the kitten out a little more and Cody touched the soft gray fur on her head.
 
 
The kitten mewed and Cody pulled away.
 
 
The Snake man’s voice got silky. ‘‘See how happy she is to meet you? She said hello. You are going to be best friends.’’
 
 
‘‘Friends?’’ Cody asked. He remembered his friends back home, and he missed them. Missed them maybe more than the sun. Yes, more than the sun.
 
 
‘‘Of course she’s your friend. Your new friend. Your best friend. Do you want to hold her?’’
 
 
No, said the older, smarter part of him. No. Rock. Just rock.
 
 
But Cody did want to hold her. He wanted very much to hold her. He wanted to hold her more than he wanted to rock.
 
 
He nodded. ‘‘Good boy,’’ the Snake man said. And then he put the kitten in Cody’s hands. The kitten mewed again.
 
 
Cody smiled and drew the kitten close to his chest. He bent his head over her to keep her warm and to keep her safe. ‘‘Hello,’’ Cody said. ‘‘Hello.’’ The kitten’s fur was softer than the bunny they had for a little while at the home. It made him happy to have a friend again.
 
 
‘‘You did a good job keeping our secret, Cody,’’ the Snake man said. ‘‘I’m proud of you. And because you’ve been so good I’m going to let you keep the kitten.’’
 
 
Cody smiled up at the Snake man. Maybe not all snakes were bad. Maybe Snake man wasn’t bad. ‘‘Mine. Mine now?’’ he asked, just to make sure.

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