Watcher of the Dark: A Jeremiah Hunt Supernatual Thriller (The Jeremiah Hunt Chronicle) (25 page)

If Durante could cripple Fuentes’s operations, he could keep him from reassembling the Key and using it to further his own ends.

I just hoped I was right.

Given that I was basing our entire plan of attack around that answer, I had better be. Otherwise the next forty-eight hours were going to prove to be rather painful in more ways than one.

Only one way to find out.

I squared my shoulders and faced the mirror directly.

“All right, listen up,” I said to my reflection, watching it carefully for any deviation in the way I normally looked but not seeing anything.

“I know you’re in there. And I think I know what you want. Fact is, I want the same thing.”

I paused, waiting to see if there would be any response.

Nothing.

“Fuentes can’t be allowed to control the Key. I know that and you know that. So it seems it would make sense for the two of us to work together to keep him from doing so, don’t you think? Join our forces to eliminate the need for a counterattack; get it all done in one fell swoop before he even knows who’s hunting him?”

Another long pause.

Another “nothing” result.

“My friends are here now. Good, honest, dependable people. The kinds of people, I suspect, that you might have gotten along with rather well, had you had the chance to meet them under better circumstances.

“All that’s water under the bridge at this point, though. What’s important is that we want to help you. We want Fuentes to pay for what he has done—to you, to others—and we think we’ve come up with a way to make him do that.

“But in order to pull it off, we’re going to need your help.”

I must admit, I felt a bit silly standing there talking to my reflection. Or rather, talking to my reflection and expecting it to make some kind of sign that it had heard what I was saying. That wasn’t going to stop me, though. Enlisting Durante’s help was the best chance we had of pulling this thing off, and I really hoped he was listening.

“I know you can hear me.”

I leaned in closer, staring deep into my own eyes.

“Hell, I probably don’t even have to say anything aloud, do I? You’re in my head; all I have to do is think it and you’ll probably hear it just fine, huh?”

“Let me help you, Durante.”

Was that a flicker of movement I saw behind my eyes?

“There’s just one thing. If you want our help nailing Fuentes to the wall, you have to leave me in control. No more fugue states. No more nighttime adventures with me waking up somewhere I don’t remember going. You could ruin everything. We’ll get Fuentes; I give you my word. But we have to do it right.”

“Are you listening, Durante?”

My reflection rippled and there, for just a moment, was another face looking out of the mirror at me. Durante stared hard in my direction, the rage and insanity I’d seen nights before now replaced with cold calculation.

I felt my head nod up and down.

The hair on the back of my neck and arms stood straight up and a chill raced down my spine for I knew I hadn’t moved of my own volition.

Durante was showing me what he could do. Perhaps even reminding me of what would happen if I didn’t follow through on my end of the bargain.

“Don’t worry about me; you just do your part and I’ll handle my end just fine.”

But he was already gone and I was left talking to my reflection again.

I washed up and then headed off to bed, wondering where I would wake up come morning and who might be lying dead beside me.

*   *   *

To my surprise, I awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and well-rested for the first time in more than a week. I glanced about, taking in the details of my surroundings, and then breathing a sigh of relief when I realized that I was still in my own bungalow.

Throwing off the covers, I got out of bed and headed for the kitchen, my thoughts on where Durante had hidden the third piece of the Key. I hadn’t taken ten steps before pulling up short, my mouth open in shocked surprise.

Holy shit!

The information was suddenly just sitting there, right in the forefront of my brain, as if it had been there all along.

I knew where the last piece of the Key was!

I didn’t waste any time. I walked into the living room, picked up the phone, and dialed the number Denise had given me the night before when we’d worked out the details of my plan. She’d explained it went to a throwaway cell phone and that she’d dispose of it the moment after taking my call, ensuring that she couldn’t be traced through it. If Fuentes was monitoring calls from the bungalows, which, given his paranoia, I was certain he was, all he would see was an extremely brief call to a nonexistent number. If pressed, I’d say I’d reached a wrong number and hung up once I’d realized what had happened.

Before we’d left the diner, we’d worked out the finer details of the plan, so that a simple phone call would set things in motion.

The phone rang once, twice, three times and then, on the fourth ring, was picked up. I waited a moment; if Denise said hello that would mean someone was on to them.

When the silence continued, I spoke a single word.

“Execute.”

The phone was hung up on the other end, signaling that my message had been received.

There was no going back now.

So be it.

35

My intention was to slip off the property, grab a cab to the place where Durante had hidden the final portion of the Key, and return with it before anyone even knew I was gone. I would then find a decent place to hide it until it was time for the next stage of our plan.

I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

No sooner had I left the bungalow than Rivera intercepted me and put me to work. I accompanied him back and forth across the property and throughout the house, using my ghostsight to examine all of the arcane wards and defenses that had been erected in the wake of Grady’s murder. We were still at it, several hours later, when we were both summoned to Fuentes’s office.

When we arrived, we found Ilyana already there and Fuentes pacing back and forth behind his desk. The atmosphere in the room was tense, and as I pretended to feel my way to my seat I could feel my heart rate kicking up.

Here we go.

Fuentes got right down to business.

“A courier just delivered a priority letter from Jack Bergman. He’s offering to turn over the final piece of the Key in exchange for his life. He has asked for a meeting at nine this evening, at a location he will reveal closer to that time. Thoughts?”

Ilyana was the first to speak up. “It could be a trap. We know Bergman was taken from the motel by person or persons unknown; perhaps they are trying to set you up, take you out.”

Rivera seemed to consider this for a moment and then shook his head. “I just don’t see it. With Durante’s death there isn’t another practitioner in town that could challenge your power. We’ve eliminated or driven off any serious challenge to your authority and we would have known if anyone of that caliber had entered the city, especially in the last few days. Bergman’s not a player; I think he’s just scared out of his mind and is looking for a way out.”

“Hunt?”

I was surprised that Fuentes bothered to ask my opinion, but we’d planned for it just in case.

“Strong emotions can often stick to an object, leave a kind of emotional trail if you will. If the letter truly is from Bergman, and if he is truly scared out of his wits the way Rivera suggests he would be, then I should be able to see it using my ghostsight.”

Fuentes glanced at Rivera and raised his eyebrows, questioning what I’d said without coming out and saying so. I had to resist the urge to laugh in his face when Rivera nodded.

Gotcha
, I thought with smug satisfaction.

“Excellent idea, Hunt,” Fuentes said. “Please, take a look. I’m placing the letter directly in front of you on the edge of my desk.”

I could see it just fine, but of course he didn’t know that. I pretended to give it due consideration and then sat back, clutching my head as if the effort had been a bit much.

“Fear. Definitely fear. A little bit of hope, too, but mostly fear. Whoever wrote that letter really doesn’t think they’re going to come out of this alive.”

It was all bullshit, plain and simple. Denise had written the letter and paid the courier to deliver it as a priority parcel. When Fuentes arrived with his two pieces of the Key, Denise and Dmitri would be waiting to help me with the final part of our plan. And though he didn’t know it yet, the Preacher was going to help too.

Willing or not.

But first I had to get the targets to the meeting place.

And pick up the final piece of the Key somewhere along the way.

“All right, that settles it,” Fuentes said. “The three of you will be my escorts. I want this thing to go off without a hitch.”

“Yes, sir,” Rivera replied.

“What about Bergman?” Ilyana asked.

Fuentes laughed. “I’m surprised you even need to ask. Once he turns over the remaining piece of the Key, kill him and anyone who’s with him.”

36

Once the decision had been made to meet with Bergman, Fuentes kept the three of us busy throughout the rest of the afternoon, which proved even more frustrating than the morning had been. Every time I would try to find an excuse to leave the property, even for only a few minutes, Rivera would be there, giving me a new task to perform. My paranoid nature told me he was intentionally keeping an eye on me because he and Fuentes knew the truth, knew I’d been the one to kill Grady, knew I was setting them up for a fall. Then my rational side would rear its head, reminding me that these guys were paranoid to begin with and they didn’t have to know anything about what was really going on behind the scenes to want to keep me in their sights. I was, after all, an outsider and, to top it all off, here against my will.

I was ready to scream in frustration by the time the call from “Bergman” came in that afternoon. The meeting site turned out to be a warehouse along the docks in Long Beach, some thirty miles away. Of course L.A. traffic being what it is, we needed at least an hour to get there at this time of day, leaving us with just enough time to get our things together and get on the road.

Fuentes had wanted to get there ahead of time, in case Bergman changed his mind and tried to bolt at the last minute, but their strategy of keeping us in the dark until the last minute would make that difficult to pull off. I knew there was no chance of Bergman getting cold feet, particularly since Bergman wouldn’t be anywhere near the place, but there was no way I could talk them out of the frantic rush to leave without making it obvious I knew something they didn’t.

Thankfully, Rivera demanded we take two different vehicles for security reasons, and when he put Ilyana and me in the same vehicle and he and Fuentes in the other, I wanted to shout in satisfaction.

Now, at least, I had the means to retrieve the final piece of the Key. All I had to do was convince Ilyana to play along with me for the ruse I had planned. Given her previous comment that her presence here wasn’t entirely voluntary, I was hoping I could appeal to her desire for freedom and enlist her help in pulling all this off. If she disagreed, I was going to have to find a way to take her out of the equation, perhaps permanently.

That was a task I wasn’t looking forward to.

I would have preferred leaving the final piece of the Key right where Durante had hidden it. It would have been safe there and there wouldn’t have been any chance of it falling into Fuentes’s hands. But in order to fulfill the letter of my bargain with the Preacher, all three pieces of the Key had to be present when he arrived to collect. That meant I had to retrieve the final piece or deal with the Preacher’s wrath, and something told me that I didn’t want to default on the terms of our agreement.

All of which meant I had no choice about what I had to do next.

“I know where to find the final piece of the Key,” I said to Ilyana, as we began the journey to Long Beach with the last of the day’s sunlight.

Ilyana was driving and she barely glanced in my direction as she said, “Not funny, Hunt.”

“I’m not trying to be,” I said, matter-of-factly. “I know where it is. I need your help to get it. If we do, I promise that you won’t have to worry about Fuentes or Rivera any longer.”

She started to laugh and then stopped. “You’re serious,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“Of course I am. Did you think I would make something like that up and dangle it in front of you, of all people? Give me some credit.”

She was quiet for a time and then, “Where is it?”

Her voice was full of need, of longing. Maybe even anticipation.

“I can’t tell you that. Not until you give me your word that you’ll help me take down Fuentes. Are you with me or not?”

Her brow creased in confusion. “You’d take my word as bond? Even knowing what I am?”

“You’re not that different. You want your freedom as much as I do.”

To her credit, she only took another thirty seconds to think about it. “Done. I give you my word that I will help you break free of Fuentes’s control and influence.”

That was good enough for me. “We need to go to the Hollywood sign. We need to do it alone and we need to go now.”

She didn’t question it; she just picked up her cell phone and pushed a speed dial number. When whoever it was on the other end answered it, she said, “I think we’ve picked up a tail. Keep going; we’ll check it out and then hang back a bit to discourage any others that might be out there.”

Ilyana listened for a moment and then said, “Relax, Rivera, I’ve got it. Better to deal with it now than to lead them all the way to Long Beach and the meet-up, right?”

Rivera must have agreed, for Ilyana killed the connection and then took the next turn we came to, cutting off the car beside us and banging a hard right in the process.

“This excuse should be good for twenty, maybe twenty-five minutes. Beyond that we’re going to face some serious scrutiny when we catch back up with them.”