Hard as a Rock, page 17
part #3 of Gargoyles Series
“Lynn.”
Wynn froze. Her muscles wanted to tighten, her shoulders to creep up and forward into a defensive posture, and she had to mentally shove them back into place. She turned back toward Coleman with a smile plastered on her face. “Yes?”
The man stood in front of his desk, leaning casually against the thick glass surface. Holding up one hand, he showed her a small white square clamped between his first two fingers. White teeth flashed once more. “Almost forgot.”
She held her ground while he ambled toward her, trying to appear relaxed and mildly curious when her instincts kept urging her to get the hell out. He halted an arm’s length in front of her and extended his offering.
“My card,” he prompted in that same pseudo-intimate tone he’d used throughout their talk, as if they were old friends. “Feel free to call me anytime if you have follow up questions. And of course I’d appreciate a copy of your story. Once it finds a home.”
“Of course,” Wynn forced out, ordering her fingers to accept the card from him smoothly, not snatch it out of his hand like a relay baton. “Thanks again for your time, Ron. Our conversation really made me think.”
“Me too. Me too,” he murmured, stepping back as she pulled open the door. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Lynn. Take care.”
She murmured something appropriate—she hoped—and stepped into the hallway, breathing deeply of the relatively fresh air. Immediately Jacquie appeared from a neighboring door and smiled at her.
“Please, let me walk you out, Ms. Lewis,” she said, gesturing back toward the lobby. “I hope your interview with Mr. Coleman went well.”
Damn it, she would have to hold on to her charade for a little while longer. “It was great,” she gushed. “Very informative. He’s certainly an interesting man.”
“Oh, absolutely. I’ve found working for him to be both challenging and very rewarding.”
Oh, Wynn just bet she did.
Chapter Twelve
Wynn pretended to listen to the other woman’s idle chatter as they made their way back to the lobby and the elevator that would take her to freedom. The tension in her body had begun to give her a headache, and her shoulders had tied themselves in knots even Gordias and his son would have been proud of. With one hand, she clutched the strap of her unfamiliar bag, simply to feel the sensation of holding on to something, while the fingers of the other had locked around Coleman’s business card in a death grip.
Yeah, it was possible she might be in need of a good massage. Or, you know, some Xanax.
When she finally saw the copper elevator door close between her and Coleman Enterprises, she nearly collapsed in relief. As it was, she thumped back against the rear wall of the elevator and drew in such deep, desperate breaths, an observer might have assumed she’d just escaped drowning. Either that, or she was insane.
The trip down to the lobby seemed to take hours, but within minutes she stepped out into the marble atrium and looked around her for her Guardian. He appeared at her side in an instant, cupping a hand beneath her elbow as he guided her toward the street exit.
“Well?” he grumbled.
Wynn shook her head. “I got nothing. Seriously. The man was magically void. Not a hint of any power or any connection to the Order. And worse than that, he didn’t appear to have any direct connection to Bran. According to him, he worked exclusively with the head of Bran’s department, not Bran himself. It was a lousy dead end, and finding all that out nearly gave me a stroke. I am not cut out for this sort of thing.”
Hitting the sidewalk outside the building, the city air assaulted them, full of car exhaust, the scent of asphalt, food smells, trash smells, and the odors of perfumes, colognes, and humanity itself. It all blended together into an olfactory cacophony that to Wynn became the freshest breath she’d ever inhaled.
She savored it for a moment, then blew it out on a groan. “Goddess, that sucked.”
Knox steered her toward the parking garage a couple of blocks away where they had left her car. A glance up at his expression told her that the results of her excursion had pleased him no more than they had her. His features were set in grim lines, his jaw tight, his lips pressed firm, his eyes narrowed but still watchful as they monitored the path ahead.
“I’m sorry this turned out to be such a waste of time.” She found herself apologizing, for what reason she had no idea, but she did it anyway. “I was really hoping this would be the big breakthrough we needed.”
Knox grunted. “You say this Coleman had no direct contact with your brother, but I still find it curious his name appeared on Bran’s list.”
“Yeah, me too, but if Coleman didn’t link them together, I’m not sure how we’re supposed to manage it.”
“Did the list not make mention of a box at a bank?”
The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and it took Wynn slightly aback. “Um, yeah, I think so.”
He nodded, an abrupt jerk of his chin. “While I waited for you, I noticed a bank located in the lobby of Coleman’s tower.”
“Yeah, I saw that, too.” She shrugged, then shot him a startled glance. “Wait, do you think that could be the bank from the list?”
He shot her a quick glance. “I recall that no box was found at the bank your brother habitually used.”
“No, the police didn’t find a safe-deposit box there, and Mom and I didn’t find records of one anywhere else.”
“If the box was secret, it would be foolish to leave such things where anyone might find them.”
“You’re right, we need to check. I just need to figure out how. Banks don’t just give info like that out to anyone who asks. Maybe I can call—”
Whatever Wynn had intended to say next disappeared in the echo of a terrified scream.
“Oh, my God, that’s a gun!” a woman shouted hysterically.
The warning hit Wynn at the same time as Knox, which occurred at the same time that a thunderous pop rent the air. Time seemed to slow as everything happened at once. She felt Knox’s fingers close hard around her elbow and jerk her to the side. Air rushed past her, tickling her face, as he shoved her hard against the building next to them.
Reflex made her reach up and grab at him in an attempt to steady herself. One hand grasped his upper arm and the other clung to his shirt at the side of his rib cage while he put himself between her and the rest of the world. She saw the stark white of Coleman’s business card flutter through the air as she lost her grip on it. Magic rippled against her, and she felt the Guardian’s muscles flex next to her fist. Her hand jerked and thumped against his ribs. To her surprise, she felt not the almost indiscernible give of his human skin, but the barrier of his Guardian flesh. Her eyes flew to his face. His features remained human, but the lines had sharpened into a chiseled profile halfway between his two forms.
She heard another pop, more screams, and heard Knox grunt. Then time slipped back into place and the world came back to her in a rush.
“Are you hurt?”
All around them, people shouted. The babble grew deafening even before the wail of a police siren joined in, screeching over the top of the racket.
Hard hands shook her, and Wynn’s gaze shot back to Knox as he glowered down at her. “I said, are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “No. Fine. You?”
He ignored her inquiry and stepped back, not even half a real step, just far enough that he no longer smashed her against the wall of the building. “We must go quickly. The attention has frightened away the shooter, but he may come back for another try.”
His hard grip propelled her forward. She almost had to jog to keep up with him as he pushed her down the nearest side street and made a beeline toward the garage. “Shooter?” Her brain had trouble focusing, and the word somehow made her goggle. “Someone shot into a crowd in downtown Chicago? In broad daylight?”
“No,” Knox snapped. “Someone shot at you.”
Wynn stumbled and nearly fell, only Knox’s hold keeping her upright. “Wait, I wasn’t shot.” Memory rushed in, and her eyes flew to his massive form. “You put yourself in front of me! Knox, did you get hit? Are you hurt? Let me see.”
She tried to wrestle out of his grip, but he subdued her easily and hustled her along to the end of the block. Turning onto the cross street, he hurried her toward the back entrance of the parking garage.
“I am fine,” he growled, his gaze not on her but constantly scanning their surroundings, looking for threats. “I saw the man draw his weapon just before he fired. I was able to partially shift beneath my clothes. In my natural form, bullets cannot penetrate my skin.”
The vise grip on her heart eased slightly. “Thank the Goddess.”
“Do not relax yet. We are not out of danger. We must reach your vehicle and get as far away from here as we can, before more of Coleman’s goons can find us.”
“Coleman. You think he was behind this? But I told you, I sensed nothing in his office.” She almost had to jog to keep up with the Guardian’s huge stride, and felt a surge of gratitude she hadn’t worn heels the way she’d contemplated doing. “Besides, I was barely out of his office five minutes. How is that enough time to take out a hit on someone?”
“It was enough time to make a phone call.”
Wynn knew he was right and had to suppress a shiver. “Oh, my gods. But how could my spell have been so wrong? I’ve never had trouble with it before.”
“There are many ways to cloak power, if one has the means and the ability.”
They reached the second level of the parking structure with Wynn only mildly out of breath. Keeping up with the gigantic warrior had shone an unpleasant spotlight on her lack of physical fitness. She might need to invest in a gym membership.
The sight of her car, parked halfway down the inner row of vehicles, could not have been more welcome. Wynn sighed in relief and began to head that way, but Knox grabbed her and pulled her into the shadow of a cement pillar. Confused, she looked up to see him once again scanning the area, clearly checking to see if anyone might have followed them.
When his grip eased and he moved forward, she breathed a sigh of relief. “If Coleman did just have us attacked, then he must be involved with the Order one way or another. Maybe he wasn’t cloaking his power, though. Maybe he doesn’t have any and he’s just, like, the money behind them. A financial backer. The nocturnis are famous for promising enormous power and riches to get people to join them. The original devil’s bargain.”
“It is possible, but it does not matter.” Quickly, Knox unlocked the car and tucked her into the passenger seat. He slid in behind the wheel and had the engine running before she even had time to fasten her seat belt. “However he is acquainted with them, we have our link.”
Wynn reached up and grabbed on to the roof strap as he slammed the car into reverse and took off like a bat out of hell. Like a gargoyle out of a parking garage? Maybe that could be turned into a new catchphrase for something.
“No, we might suspect our link, but we have no solid evidence,” she gritted out, clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut as Knox shot out of the garage and forced his way into traffic. “We also don’t know anything concrete about the connection, so I’m not sure how much just knowing he’s involved really helps us.”
Knox threaded his way through the downtown congestion at a speed that would have put a Hollywood car chase to shame. When he headed for the highway instead of taking the back streets toward her neighborhood, she almost applauded. At least on the interstate, his speed would count as merely reckless instead of suicidal.
“Hey, I’d remind you that getting pulled over when you don’t have a license is a lousy idea,” she managed to say, cracking one eye open just enough to confirm she was better off keeping them closed, “but at the moment I’d be satisfied with you just making really, really sure not to kill us both!”
They careened down the highway and zipped right past the exit that would have taken them back toward Dunning. She risked a glance at Knox, and saw him concentrating grimly on the road ahead, but she didn’t think he had forgotten which exit to take. The Guardian had a mind like a steel trap. When he showed no signs of searching for an alternative route, but simply continued to drive, she ventured a question.
“Um, not to be rude or pedantic or anything, but, uh, where are we going right now?”
Knox kept his eyes on the road, for which she gave a quick prayer of gratitude, and eased off the accelerator a bit, bringing her car into within fifteen miles per hour of the actual speed limit. She swore the little vehicle actually shuddered with relief.
“I did not wish to lead any pursuit directly to your home. You would be easy enough to find without us dropping a trail of bread crumbs.”
Wynn felt a shiver of fear. “Do you think we should just stay away from the house altogether?”
He let out a breath almost like a sigh, but shorter and sharper. She wasn’t sure what to call it. “No,” he said, and she could tell giving that answer did not make him happy. “Your home at least has wards to offer a degree of protection, though you will strengthen those as soon as we return. You also keep your materials there, and you may need them to defend yourself. I will protect you to the best of my ability, but if we are outnumbered or separated by our enemies, you will need to be prepared. I presume you have studied at least some combative magics.”
This time, she sighed, and made a face to top it off. “Not my strong suit, but yes. I’m better at protection, so I can do a few things to give me some magical shields of a sort, and I’m good with protective charms, like the goofer dust and drive away salt. I’ll make sure I have plenty of both on hand.”
“Those will help, but against the stronger forces, offensive spells work best. All Wardens study them as part of their training.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not a real Warden, remember?”
“We will consult with your uncle. He is unable to cast such spells himself, but he could teach you a few important ones to have on hand. It is best to be prepared.”
Wynn swallowed down her reflexive bitterness and focused on the matter at hand. It didn’t matter anymore that the Guild had rejected her. She had to live in the moment, and this moment called for learning the skills of a Warden. “Strive for peace, prepare for war, huh?”
“There will be no peace until the Seven have been contained once more and the Order has been driven into exile.”
And didn’t that put a happy little cake topper of optimism on the day?
She had no idea what to say after that, so she just stared straight ahead for several minutes while Knox continued to drive them south and west, away from Chicago. They cleared the city easily before rush-hour traffic hit, and by the time she started to see signs for Bloomington, she had managed to pry her numb fingers off the roof strap and regain her sense of equilibrium. Being shot at could apparently throw a girl completely off her stride.
The incident did manage to get the two of them talking again, Wynn realized with a hint of wry humor. Sure, all they had spoken of was protecting their butts and preparing for more attacks on said backsides, but considering last night and earlier today, she called that progress. Plus, the grumpy Guardian had actually thrown himself between her and a bullet. Maybe it counted as scraping the bottom of the barrel for blessings worth counting, but the fact that he wanted to keep her alive gave her at least a spark of hope for the future.
Go ahead, call her a cockeyed optimist.
Of course, the impromptu truce still felt too fragile to test, so Wynn settled back in her seat and tried to decide what to do next.
“I’m still confused,” she admitted after several more miles of silence. “What would prompt Coleman to show his hand like that?”
He slid her a glance. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he had me completely fooled. I was convinced he was a dead end, that he had nothing to do with the Order. I mean, I didn’t like him at all, and something about him definitely rubbed me the wrong way, but he fooled my detection spell, and he gave me all the right answers to my questions to throw me off the scent. After accomplishing all that, why would he stage an attack so closely timed that we had to think it was him? What would it get him?”
“It could have gotten you out of his way permanently,” Knox growled, and she saw the way his hands clenched around the steering wheel, the color in his knuckles bleeding to white.
“Yeah, but I just don’t see that I really pose that big a threat to him, especially when he gave me nothing I can use as evidence against him.”
“You alone he might very well dismiss as unimportant, but you with a Guardian at your side? That poses a threat to anyone in the Order.”
She frowned at him. “But I specifically didn’t bring you with me. You waited downstairs. He couldn’t have known we were together, even if he had somehow known you were a Guardian.”
He snorted and merged onto another route that would begin a looping course back to the city. “Do you really think that if a man as powerful as you tell me this Ronald Coleman is were connected to the Order, he would not have spies everywhere? You think he would take a meeting with someone who popped up out of thin air, no matter what story she spun him, and not have minions watching her every move from the moment she entered his territory? Do not be naive, little witch. Coleman’s men saw us enter together, they saw you leave me, and they saw you return to me. Any of them with a modicum of talent could easily have seen through my disguise and recognized me for what I am, even if they had not already been looking out for one of my kind.”
Wynn swore. The only reason she didn’t smack him upside the head was because his driving already had her in fear for her life. “If you knew it was likely to happen that way, why the hell did you come with me? Why didn’t you just stay back at the house and wait for me? If you hadn’t been there, they would have had no reason to doubt my story.”
