Read Trace of Magic Online

Authors: Diana Pharaoh Francis

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Urban, #Romance

Trace of Magic (15 page)

BOOK: Trace of Magic
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“Why is she listed now and not before?” I asked the obvious. Had someone wanted to lure Price here?

“I don’t know. All right, so Nader came to see Darlington and now he’s dead. How long was he here?”

Price had gone into cop mode again. All robot and business.

“We went by too fast. I couldn’t tell.”

He looked at me as if trying to decide if he could believe me.
Goes both ways. You don’t tell me everything either
. I didn’t say it. Why bother? We both knew it. Though in this case, I’d gotten distracted by the guard, so I wasn’t lying.

“Let’s backtrack and see what you can find out further up the trail.”

“Fine.”

By the time we got back to the snowmobile, I could barely walk, I was so cold. The temperatures were in the upper teens, but my legs were soaked through and the snow that had fallen down my neck earlier had melted, adding to my misery. No point in complaining. It’s not like we had time to curl up in front of a warm fire.

I forced my leg over the seat and plopped down. I pressed up against Price, hoping his warmth would permeate through to me.

He pulled out from under the trees and took a circuitous route to pick up Nader’s trace.

“Riley? What do you see?”

I rubbed away the moisture that had crusted my eyes. I found Nader’s trace pretty quickly. Now that I’d followed Nader’s trace, it was easy to sort from the trace lattice crisscrossing the avenue. Price slowed. I uncurled my fingers and sank them into the spirit dimension like I was trailing them in water. I summoned Nader’s ribbon into my hand.

I thought I’d been cold before. Ice crept up into the marrow of my bones, followed by a deep hurt, sort of like an ice-cream headache, except all over my body. I couldn’t feel myself. I couldn’t tell if my other hand was still holding on to Price’s coat; I couldn’t feel the press of the seat or the pegs under my feet.

“Can you tell anything?” Price asked over his shoulder.

I dropped the trace. “He was here five days. He got here last Tuesday.” My tongue and lips were stiff, and I slurred the words. I wanted to ask what we were going to do next. It was too much effort.

Price gunned the motor, and I did my best to hold on, closing my eyes and imagining sleep.

Chapter 14

“RILEY! WAKE UP!”

Something shook me. “Leave me alone.” Well, that’s what I wanted to say, but mostly it came out like a sick cat sound.

“Riley!”

The voice was sharp and demanding. Price. Detective-Asshole Clay Price. What did he want from me now? Couldn’t he see how tired I was?

“Dammit, Riley. Move!”

A tight band wrapped my waist and lifted me to my feet. My knees buckled, and the band tightened.

“You need to get your blood moving, Riley. Try to walk. We’re going to warm you up. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were so cold?”

Price sounded pissed. I mumbled something. I think I said I was trying.

“What? What did you say? Come on, talk to me, Riley. Wake up, baby. Come on, sweetheart. You don’t want to sleep. Not now.”

What did he know? I wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Pricks of pain needled up my shins and around my toes. I lurched, trying to get away from them.

“There you go. That’s a good girl.”

What was I? A dog?

He kept pulling me along, and it slowly occurred to me that the band around my waist was his arm and he had pulled my right arm over his shoulder. He was marching me up and down a small room.

The needling pain soon turned into saw blades chewing into my muscles. I started to shake. My teeth clacked so hard I thought they were going to crack. Somewhere in there I realized I’d lost my pants again. You’d think that pants would be harder to lose. I still had a shirt on, but no underwear or socks. I was wrapped in a blanket, and the beige shag carpet felt like sandpaper on my feet.

“Where are we?” I sounded like I’d eaten razor blades with a bottle of rotgut for a chaser.

“Somewhere safe.”

“Right. Like the Tyet doesn’t have tracers on us right now.”

“I took care of that. I used a null.”

“Where did you get that? Oh, right, your desk drawer magic stash. I don’t think I can stand up anymore.” I was shivering hard enough to give me whiplash.

“Let’s get you into bed.”

He eased me down onto the sheets and pulled the covers up over me. I thought maybe he’d climb in with me to help warm me up, but instead he disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the sound of water running.

“I’m going to put you into a warm bath,” he said.

I want to tell you that I was too freaking cold to even think about the last time Price and I were in the bathroom with hot water, but no, I wasn’t that cold. I’d probably have to be dead to not make that connection.

“I can’t get in the bath now,” I said, pushing the covers back. “I’ll be fine. We need to find Josh.”

Price ignored me, dragging me into the bathroom. Price helped me pull off my shirt and bra, and then held me while I stepped into the water.

Fire wrapped my foot, and I jerked it out. “How hot is it?”

“Tepid,” he said, his mouth twisting down.

Because he wasn’t going to let me off the hook, I planted my foot in the tub and then the other, then lowered myself down. The sensation of saw blades was back, as were the needles. They pulsed back and forth. I swallowed a moan. I didn’t need an “I told you so” from Price.

I leaned back and let the water rise over me, holding my breath until the feeling that my skin was being peeled away grew more bearable. After about ten minutes of that, I realized the shivering was easing up and I was actually feeling cold. I sat up and turned the spigot to hotter. Price had seated himself on the toilet and was watching me. He was pissed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were wet? Do you get off on flirting with death?”

“We didn’t have time for me to be a baby, and besides, it wasn’t the wet that made me so cold. At least, I would have been fine if I hadn’t touched Nader’s trace.”

He went still. “Touched?”

I blew out a breath. He knew most everything about me already, what was one more? “Touch it. When I do, I can learn a lot about the person who left the trace. I’ve never touched dead trace before. It kind of sucked all the heat out of me.”

Before he could respond, his phone rang. He lifted it to his ear. “What?”

Pause.

“No, sir. Family emergency.” His gaze fell on me and then he looked away. He didn’t seem that excited to have a naked woman at his mercy. “A few days. What?” His expression flattened and his teeth bared. “Yes, sir. I did.” Another pause. “A case I’ve been looking into. Thought I might have a new lead. Didn’t go anywhere.” Pause. “Yes, sir. I will.”

He hung up and his hand clenched around his phone. For a second I thought he was going to throw it.

“Who was that?”

“My captain.”

“And?” I prodded when he just stared blankly at the towel rack on the opposite wall. “What did he want?”

He flinched like he’d forgotten about me. “He was curious, since I’d taken a few days off for a family emergency, why I was accessing the police database.” He thrust himself to his feet and slammed his fist against the wall. “Son of a bitch!”

I sloshed to my feet. “Breaking your hand isn’t going to do anybody any good,” I said.

He glared at me, then walked out. I grabbed a towel and dried off. I wriggled into my bra and shirt and wrapped a dry towel around my waist before joining him.

Aside from the bed, the wood-paneled room contained two nightstands, a dresser and a mirror, an overstuffed brown and yellow striped chair, and some pictures on the wall of ducks on ponds. A popcorn ceiling and a white louvered double closet on the wall completed the décor. My pants and underwear hung over a wooden chair by a wall heater.

Price paced by the window. I sat down on the bed and pulled the covers over me, watching him. I got that he was pissed that his captain was having him monitored, but I didn’t get why. Everybody knew he worked for Touray, just like most of the other guys on the force worked for a Tyet faction. I’d have thought they all expected to be watched.

My stomach rumbled. I like to eat—and with regularity. I’m not one of those twiggy girls who eats a half a grapefruit and a yogurt for breakfast and then is full for the rest of the day. I like food and plenty of it.

“This place got anything to eat?”

He went to the dresser where he’d left his bag and pulled out one of the protein bars. He tossed it to me. “Here.”

Beggars can’t be choosers. It actually wasn’t all that bad. It had chocolate and fruit and nuts, along with whatever healthy crap that accidentally fell into it. Didn’t do much for my taste buds, but I felt better. The remnants of my shakiness evaporated with the addition of calories.

I tossed the wrapper on the nightstand. “What time is it?”

“Somewhere around two o’clock. The next storm starts moving in tomorrow.”

“What next?”

“We need to get inside those apartments and talk to Shana Darlington.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Sounded about as easy as getting into the White House.

“I know a dreamer. She’ll get us by the guards. We’ll use nulls to kill any security. We get in and out before anyone realizes we were ever there.”

A simple plan. It could even work, though it depended on a whole lot of ifs. Neither of us had any real idea what the magical security was like. Getting past could easily be more than we could handle. “Can you trust this dreamer? Is she any good?”

“One of the best I’ve ever met. Once bought, she stays bought.”

“So she’s a freelancer?” I asked doubtfully, envy spiraling through me. “If she’s so good, how come she doesn’t belong to the Tyet?”

“Cass isn’t—” He smiled a crocodile smile. “You don’t want to mess with a dreamer like her. She can send you to hell in your mind. She’s very, very inventive.”

And here I thought I was the only unicorn in the city. “I’m surprised they didn’t kill her, since they couldn’t control her.”

He shook his head. “She’s too good. And like I said, she can be bought. Not everybody is owned by the Tyet. It doesn’t hurt she can protect herself. Plus she has powerful friends.”

Could I do the same thing? I tucked the impossible notion away to consider later.

“How will she make a connection to the guards? She’ll have to touch them. There’s no way she can get close enough. She’ll get shot first.”

“She’ll have you.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He gave me an intent look. “You can give her their trace. That’s all she needs to get us in safely.”

I crossed my arms, shielding myself from what I knew he was asking. “A dreamer can’t touch trace.”

“No, but she doesn’t have to. You just let her into your mind, then after you pick up the trace, she’ll do the rest.”

Haunters were a lot like dreamers, the way they could mess with your head. The difference was that they had to touch you while they were twisting your mind around, and mostly you were aware of what they were doing the whole time. It made it possible to resist. Not dreamers. They had a lot more finesse. They could go right into your mind and make you think anything they wanted. They didn’t need to touch you. All they really had to do was connect to your soul through a piece of you—toenails, blood, shed hair. Letting her touch me would be giving her the keys to my sanity.

“No way. She’s not getting into my mind.”

“I thought you wanted to rescue Josh.”

“I do,” I snapped, starting to feel cornered. I pushed up off the bed and went to stand by the wall, as far away from him as I could get.

“Then we need to know what Shana Darlington knows. We can’t wait.”

We
. I wondered if his
we
included Touray and the rest of his Tyet buddies. “We have the baggies. Seven names.”

He shook his head. “We don’t know if and how any of those are actually involved.”

“I don’t want a dreamer in my head.”

“What sane person would? Hell, I don’t want to go into the place at all. I like to keep my skin in one piece. But we don’t have a lot of choices. Unless you’ve got another plan. I’m all ears. Spit it out.”

I would have given anything to wipe that look off his face with a brilliant plan that wouldn’t put us in any danger and yet would give us all the answers, rescue Josh, and save us from the Tyet. Unfortunately, I had nothing.

“Damn you,” I said at last.

He didn’t smile like I thought he might. If he had, I would have had to knee him in the balls.

“When do we go?”

“Soon as we can. We don’t want to get caught in the dark. But first you need dry clothes and a hot meal.”

“I also need a couple bottles of Xanax and a one-way ticket to Timbuktu. I don’t see them happening either.”

I grabbed my still-damp pants and underwear and went back into the bathroom to relieve myself and put them on. They were cold and clammy, and I had to wrestle the jeans up over my ass. Instantly I felt chilled again. I opened the door, looking over my shoulder at the sink for an elastic band or clip to put up my hair with, and ran right into Price’s chest. He grabbed my arms when I started to fall backward, and pulled me close against him. Heat instantly enveloped me and I forgot how uncomfortable my pants were.

I looked up at him. His sapphire eyes were hard as marbles.

“If you start getting into trouble again, I want to hear about it, understand?” he said. “I don’t care what it is—cold, tired, hungry, or something worse. You aren’t Wonder Woman.”

“I never claimed to be.” I pulled out of his grip and pushed past him into the room. I hadn’t been trying to be Wonder Woman. I was just trying to keep up with him.

He gave an exasperated sigh. “Look, if you really don’t want to do this, we’ll find another way.”

Part of me jumped at the notion, but unfortunately for me, another way would take too much time and that was one thing Josh didn’t have. Who knew what they were doing to him.

“I’ll do it.”

“Good. Then the next thing I need to know is where you live.”

I stiffened and faced him, the words coming out before I even thought about it. “That’s none of your business.”

“Jesus Christ, Riley. I’m not your enemy. I’m just trying to help you. You need dry clothes. There are some at your house. To get them, I need to drive you there. It is, therefore, my business.”

“Tell me something. How come you do the cop thing? Why not just be strictly Tyet?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion at my sudden shift in topic. “What does that matter right now?”

“Humor me.”

“Fine. I always wanted to be a cop, but things got complicated. Touray and I go way back. He came to me and I couldn’t turn him down.”

I nodded. “And if—when—he says you have to choose between him and me?” I wasn’t looking for declarations of love and undying commitment. In fact, I was expecting exactly the opposite.

“I’m not going to betray you, Riley.”

I think he believed it. “Sometimes you don’t get to choose,” I said. “Just because you don’t want to, doesn’t mean you won’t. It doesn’t mean they won’t force you. Touray has access to the best dreamers there are, if he’s feeling kind. If not—there’s torture.”

Price held my gaze a moment, then something shifted in his eyes, and he nodded. “If that’s what you want. You know you risk dying of pneumonia, going out in those damp clothes.”

I snorted. “Not before someone kills me, I’m sure.”

FIFTEEN MINUTES later we were back on the snowmobile. Our hideout was a little motel in Downtown not far from the diner and Price’s precinct house. There were more signs of life now. The sounds of truck motors and snowblowers rumbled through the air, and lights gleamed from windows. I was surprised when Price pulled up on the sidewalk outside the diner.

He got off the snowmobile. I didn’t move. “What are we doing here?”

“You use this place as an office. Stands to reason you’ve got clothes stashed here. Plus we need to eat.” He held up two fingers and folded one down. “Two birds, one stone.”

I shook my head, even as my stomach growled. I would die for one of Ben’s bacon fire cheeseburgers. “I don’t want them involved in this mess. If we’re being traced, that will put them in danger.”

“Not if we eat fast and get out. As far as the Tyet knows, it’s just a place for us to eat. Besides, you didn’t leave me with another choice, so get off your ass and move it.”

I hid my smile. Fucking know-it-all. As a matter of fact, I did keep clothes here, plus some other supplies that might come in handy.

He pulled me inside, where the scents of burgers, fries, and apple pie embraced me. The bell over the door rang a warning that someone had entered. A few booths were full and four people sat at the counter. Ben looked up as we came in. He waved his spatula at me, a grin of relief and welcome splitting his ruddy cheeks wide before he scowled past me at Price. Patti was pouring coffee with her back to us.

Price guided me down to a booth in the corner by the window and pushed me down onto the seat. He sat down opposite, facing the door. About a second later, Patti came stomping down the aisle. It’s hard to stomp in platform heels. Patti has talent.

BOOK: Trace of Magic
12.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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