Casting Shadows, page 10
part #4 of The Magicsmith Series
“How long were we exposed?”
His lips pressed into a grim line and his words traveled silently through our link. I don’t know.
The woman continued her steady progress, trundling along, hunched over her cart, until she was standing right in front of us. Then she paused.
I tensed, ready to run.
“Spare some change?” She held out one hand. Her ring finger peeked through a hole in the tip of her grime-coated glove.
“Sorry.” I patted down my pockets. “I don’t have any.”
James reached inside his coat and pulled out a wallet. He withdrew two crisp twenty dollar bills and set them on the woman’s palm.
Her fingers snapped closed on the money and disappeared into her coat pocket.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and pushed her cart past us.
We watched her until she turned the next corner. She never glanced back.
“We need to get inside.” I turned back to James and grabbed both his hands with mine. “I have an idea. Close your eyes.”
He shook his head. “It’s not something I’m seeing that’s the problem.”
“Kai said the spells around this place were designed to make people ignore it. I don’t think you’ll have any problem if you can just make it through the door.”
“Except I get disoriented before I can get anywhere near it.”
“That’s why you have me.” I tightened my grip on his hands and poured as much confidence as I could through our link. “Close your eyes and trust me. Forget about where you are and what you’re trying to do. You don’t need to get to Crossroads. You just need to keep holding my hands.”
When James’s eyes were closed, I called to him through our connection. Stay with me. Then I took a step back.
James’s grip grew crushingly tight on my fingers. He shuffled forward.
I took another step, pulling with the invisible cord that connected us.
Stay with me.
This time he moved faster, shifting before my weight had settled. The next step we took almost in unison.
I moved toward the door, glancing over my shoulder as I went, keeping up the silent litany of encouragement. When I was in danger of stepping on Chase if I went any farther, I paused. Arthur was filling the doorway.
“Please,” I said. “Let us in.”
Arthur’s stony frown was still in place. His flint black eyes flicked between me and James.
“Meow.”
Arthur looked down at Chase, who sat tall and straight in the damp alley.
“Meow,” he said again.
I looked between them, unsure if trolls could understand cats. James’s hands shook in mine. A glance showed beads of sweat on his pale skin. I focused on the bouncer. “Please.”
The mountainous shoulders slumped. The frown deepened and the rocky protrusion of his brow sank lower, hiding his deep-set eyes. Then he stepped back, clearing the doorway.
Sighing with relief, I pulled James over the threshold.
Chapter 9
JAMES LURCHED forward when he crossed into the dim entryway as though a force that had been pressing against him suddenly fell away. He dropped to one knee, one hand still gripping mine while the other pressed to the floor. His eyes remained firmly closed. He was pulling in deep breaths, as though he’d just come up for air after a particularly deep dive.
I rubbed my free hand over his back. “You made it.”
His eyes opened slowly, but when his gaze locked with mine it was bright and alert. Whatever fogging effect the spells in the alley caused had vanished, leaving cold, clear blue.
He pulled our joined hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Thank you.”
Chase stepped between us, furred tail lashing our shins. Then he stepped lightly down the hall.
“Come on.” I pulled James to his feet and led him toward the bar.
Noises filtered down the corridor, but they weren’t the sounds I usually associated with the place. There was no music, no stomp of dancing feet, no drunken merry-making or raucous laughter. All I could make out as I walked was the subdued murmur of voices and the scuff and shift of bodies unable to hold still.
When I rounded the corner leading to the main room, I froze. Dozens of fae stood around the bar. There were sidhe, pixies, a kelpie, a harpy, even a backoo. There were also some species I would need my encyclopedia to identify. Chase slipped between the ankles of the nearest fae, quickly disappearing in the crowd. Every face in the room was turned away from me . . . toward a large screen on the back wall behind the stage where a band should have been playing.
On the screen, the local news showed a line of people marching into the PTF testing facility in Denver. I’d been there once before, passed through those glass doors to the vaulted atrium where a too-cheerful desk attendant handed out ID bracelets and visitor badges.
Armed PTF agents in full riot gear held the doors open as the line of people shuffled past. Men and women in business suits stood between those in t-shirts and jeans. Some people looked like they’d just rolled out of bed or been pulled out of the gym while others wore high heels and fur coats. Children were scattered throughout the group, clinging to the arms of parents.
The shot zoomed out, and a pouty-lipped woman with thick, black hair and a microphone stepped into the frame. “As you can see from the line behind me, the Denver PTF facility is full to capacity with registered halfers who’ve come in for retesting in response to Director Harris’s call to action earlier today.”
A fast fade changed the view on the screen to the inside of a conference room. Everly Harris stood in a pale-gray suit with her shoulders back and her chin high. She was framed by a pair of potted plants with wide, waxy leaves.
“We at the PTF are requesting all registered halfers come in for retesting. Once it has been confirmed there is no change to your status, you will be free to go. Those who do not come in voluntarily will be brought in for questioning at a later date.” The threat in Harris’s tone was unmistakable. Come in . . . or else.
Harris’s face froze mid-speech, locking it in a ridiculous expression with her eyes half closed and her mouth making a pursed “O” shape. Then the scene shrank to hover in an upper corner of the screen so we could once more see the reporter.
“So far, no discrepancies have been found, leading many to believe the claim of iron-resistant halfers was a hoax.”
“Alex!” A high-pitched voice called from somewhere in the middle of the crowd.
Chase emerged from between a pair of eloko legs. Behind him, a ripple ran through the gathered fae until Jynx pushed past the last line of bodies and burst into the open. She raced the last few steps and slammed into me, arms wrapping my ribs like a vise.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Before I could return her hug, she jumped back, glaring. “Why did you come back? It’s not safe here. The PTF is looking for you.”
“I had to make sure you and Emma were all right. Speaking of which . . .” I scanned the crowd. More and more faces were turning in my direction, their attention pulled from the drama on the television screen to the one happening behind them.
“I’m here.” Emma waved a hand as she emerged from the gap Jynx had made. She came to stand beside me, but didn’t offer a hug. “Did you learn anything about May?”
I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry.
Hope lit Emma’s face. “What did—”
“Let’s find a quiet corner to talk,” I said. Almost every face in the room was turned in our direction now, and most of them did not look friendly.
I glanced at James. He was holding very, very still.
“Alex Blackwood.” The crowd split like metal shavings pushed back by the force of a magnet to reveal a large man with a barrel chest, tree trunk arms, and a shock of flame-red hair. Behind him trailed a smaller, slimmer figure whose hair was the same shade of red.
Ava smiled at me from behind her uncle’s back, but the smile was strained, more a tightening of her face than an expression of pleasure.
“What trouble have you brought into my bar today?” Targe, the owner of Crossroads, folded his arms across his wide chest and glared down at me.
I tightened my grip on James’s hand, both in a show of solidarity and to give myself a much-needed boost of confidence. The last time I’d been in Targe’s bar I’d gotten drunk on a faerie drink called ambrosia and caused a scene. He’d kicked me out, and so far as I knew, hadn’t yet lifted the ban on my return.
“We came looking for Jynx and Emma,” my gaze flicked past Targe, “and Ava. I wanted to make sure they’d gotten out of my house all right.”
“Well, as you can see, they’re fine.” He didn’t move, a wall of unhappy man blocking further entry. Honestly, I found the troll less intimidating.
“Right . . . well . . .”
“We request sanctuary,” Chase said as he stepped up beside me, once more in human form. And once more totally naked. Apparently a room full of strangers seeing his junk didn’t bother him in the slightest.
Targe’s gaze shifted to Chase, then back to me, then continued to my other side where James stood statue still. “A vampire can’t claim sanctuary.”
“He won’t cause any trouble,” I said. “I promise.”
“Throw them both out,” someone shouted from the crowd.
A murmur of agreement rippled through the fae.
Targe cut one hand to the side like he was chopping wood, and the murmurs stopped.
“Your face is all over the news, along with claims about a treatment to fool the PTF iron tests.”
“I was lying when I said that, stalling for time, trying to save the life of a friend.” My throat constricted on the last word.
“Now you show up with one of them”—he jerked his chin toward James—“begging for sanctuary.”
“We just need a safe place to talk for a few minutes. Then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“You’ve upset a lot of people, Ms. Blackwood. The PTF aren’t the only ones with a bone to pick.”
The crowd behind him was starting to stir again, and it finally struck me that James being a vampire wasn’t the only reason I wasn’t welcome here. These fae were hiding from the PTF and the angry humans calling for war . . . and they blamed me.
My face began to tingle. I took a deep breath.
“I’ll take them to the back office.” Ava set her hand against Targe’s arm. “Keep them out of the way.”
Targe’s orange-stubbled jaw shifted side to side, as though he were swishing the idea around to see how it tasted. Judging by his expression, it left a sour flavor.
“Stick to the back room,” he said. Then he turned and marched back to his station behind the bar at the center of the room, fae once more parting around him.
“Come on.” Ava tugged my sleeve. She, Chase, and Jynx walked closest to the fae, providing a moving barrier for Emma, James, and me as we made our way around the perimeter of the room and through a door at the back.
Ava pressed the door closed when the last of our little group cleared the threshold.
I waited a beat, then moved to the plastic blinds that covered the one window in the room, which looked back into the bar rather than offering any view outside. A few fae still faced the office, but most had turned back to the TV where scenes of unrest continued to scroll past.
“They blame me for having to hide,” I whispered.
“They’re scared.” Ava hopped onto the large oak desk that dominated one side of the room.
I turned away from the window. “I’m glad you guys are safe.”
Jynx smiled at Ava, pride lighting her face. “Ava portalled to the house as soon as she saw the news. She got us out just before the police broke down the front door.”
“We barely had time to grab a few necessities, but we packed a bag for you too.” Emma gestured to my suitcase, propped in a corner beside her backpack.
“That’s great, thanks.” I should have made packing a go-bag a higher priority, but who would have thought shit would go to hell so fast? I crouched in front of my bag and unzipped the main section, finding my knife, gun, and a collection of random clothes. On top of it all was the carving of a gaala—a six-legged deer-like creature—I’d gotten from Bael. I’d kept the keepsake on my dresser beside my silver sword—which was notably absent. I lifted the tiny sculpture. “Why’d you bring this?”
Emma frowned. “I didn’t. Maybe it fell in when I was grabbing your clothes.”
I stared at the carved gaala. While the creature was made of wood, I’d seen it walk, and even fly, thanks to Bael’s enchantment. It was entirely possible the little guy had packed itself to avoid being collected by the PTF.
Emma settled onto a faded orange couch with sagging cushions and folded her arms across her abdomen. “So . . . what did you find out about May?”
I tucked the gaala back inside the bag and took a seat beside her.
Chase and James remained standing, each with their arms crossed, while Jynx snuggled up next to Ava on the desk.
“We’ve got a good idea who’s been taking kids,” I said. “Not just mortals, but fae too. She’s in a pri . . . in a place attached to the Realm of Enchantment, so I’m going to go talk to Bael and see if he can get them out.”
I’d almost said she was in a prison, but Emma didn’t need to know May was in the hands of a war criminal, not when she already looked like death warmed over.
“Did you—”
The office door opened, and we all jerked to attention.
“Are you always this popular?” Haru said as he slipped through the opening. “I seem to recall you receiving a similar welcome in Enchantment.”
My surprise was followed quickly by a twinge of guilt. I’d forgotten about Haru. He would have been at my house as well when the police arrived.
He was still in his human form, though his ears and tail were clearly visible. I was reminded of Anika with her mix-and-match body. Did Haru’s ability to hold a partially changed state mean he was stronger than Chase?
“I see you survived your encounter with the Shifter Lord,” he continued. “So what did you think of the old bird?”
“What do you want?” Chase asked.
Haru smiled, his Mediterranean eyes twinkling. “To lodge a complaint.” He swung his attention to me. “Your hostess skills are sorely lacking.”
“Noted. But you’re free to go now. Whatever deal you had with Mica, I doubt he’d insist you stay in a house under PTF control.”
“I promised to stay with you, so stay with you I shall. Besides”—again his eyes twinkled like sunlight on water—“your escapades could prove quite entertaining.”
Chase snorted and turned his back on the kitsune. “Ignore him. His sense of humor is undeniably warped.”
Haru pulled out the tall leather chair behind Targe’s desk and dropped into it, tucking his hands behind his head. “You would know.”
I shook my head. Curious as I was about the animosity between Chase and Haru, and the part Nia had played in their falling out, we had more pressing concerns. “We need to head back to the reservation immediately. The place where May is likely being held moves through time faster than here.”
Emma frowned. “You mean like how you went away for over a week but said you only felt a couple days had passed?”
“But the other way. Every moment that passes here could be . . . well, a lot longer for May.”
What little color remained in Emma’s cheeks drained. Even her lips seemed pale.
“How long?”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure.”
“Roughly two thirds of a year passes there for every day here on Earth,” Haru piped, his feet now propped on the corner of Targe’s desk.
The world seemed to slow. My vision drew in, focusing on the soft leather soles of Haru’s shoes. May had been missing nearly two days already. She’d been eleven, almost twelve when she was taken. How old would she be when we got her back?
I inhaled, forcing air into my tight lungs. The tunnel vision faded, revealing the rest of the room’s inhabitants slightly out of place from where they’d been when my brain took momentary leave. Emma was doubled over with her head between her knees. James’s hand rested on her back. Jynx and Ava were huddled tight together, mirrored frowns on their faces. Chase was glaring at Haru like he wanted to vault the desk and strangle him. Chase had probably known the time ratio but kept it vague for the benefit of the mortals involved.
I forced a swallow past the lump in my throat and croaked, “We need to get back to the reservation.” I shifted my gaze to the girls on the desk. “Ava, can you reach that far with your portals?”
She shook her head, red hair tumbling over her shoulders. “Not even Targe can do that, but he’s a member of a jump line. That’s why so many fae are here. They’re planning to run a jump soon for fae who don’t want to hang around to see how things sort out with the PTF.”
Chase uncrossed his arms. “When’s the jump scheduled?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Emma shook her head, pushing to her feet. “That’s too long.”
I rose as well and set what I hoped was a calming hand on her shoulder. “I agree. Four and a half hours by car beats spending the night here, even if it only saves a few hours. We need to leave now.”
Chapter 10
“WHAT ABOUT THE security checks at the edge of town?” James asked.
“I could jump you outside the city,” Ava said, then frowned. “But then you wouldn’t have a car.”
I looked at James. “Where’s Joe? Could you call him to meet us somewhere?”
He shook his head. “Joe’s the one who told me what was happening. When he called, the PTF was already at the gallery looking for us. Even if he wasn’t detained, he’ll be under surveillance.”
