Magic on the Line (9 page)

Davy had managed to detach himself from Sunny and was instead over by the TV talking with Sid.

I went that way.

“Hey,” I said when I was close enough.

They both nodded and made room so I could stand next to them.

“What I want to know,” I said, “is how much it’s going to cost me to buy my way out of your bodyguard services.”

“Not open to negotiation,” Davy said.

“Oh, I’ll listen,” Sid said amicably. “How much do you think it would take?”

“I’d offer you each a thousand. And an extra five hundred each if you talk the other Hounds into giving it up too.”

“Last time you offered us money it was five times that much,” Sid said.

“I can’t believe I’m having to pay to get rid of protection services,” I said, irritated. “You should be happy I don’t file a restraining order on the lot of you and have you arrested if you’re found in the same city with me.”

“What do you think, Davy?” Sid said. “Fast money.”

“Nope.” Davy tipped up his beer, gave me a hard look. “We are your guards. End of conversation.”

“Sid?” I said. “Tell me you have the sense to realize that if I don’t want to be followed, I will make your trying to do so a miserable experience.”

“I do have that sense.”

“So?”

He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I’m with Davy on this,” he said cheerfully. “These people you’re involved with? I’ve done some checking up on them.”

I rolled my eyes. This was exactly what I was worried he would do. “And you don’t like what you’ve found?”

“No. Everything I’ve tracked back to these individuals pans out. Looks legal, legit, common. But my gut tells me there’s something more. On paper, these people are fine. They don’t stand out in any appreciable way. But when you meet them in person, or when you get a bunch of them together all in the same room . . . Well, look at them. They don’t add up. They’re hiding something.”

“Everyone’s hiding something,” I groused. “I don’t know why you suddenly have to get all protective about me.”

“We like you,” Davy said.

“And your money,” Sid said.

“Which I’d be happy to give to you if you’d stop following me around.”

The phone on my desk rang and Jamar answered it. He looked over at me, said “yes,” and hung up. Wondered who was checking in on me.

“Going to tell us who died?” Davy asked, changing the subject.

“Will it get you off my back?”

“No.”

I glared at him. He took another drink of beer, unconcerned.

“Her name was Chase. She was a friend of Zayvion and Shame and Terric. I guess she knew all these other people too, except for the Hounds, of course. Or, at least I don’t think you knew her, did you?”

Davy and Sid both shook their heads.

I shrugged. “I don’t know why they didn’t hold the memorial somewhere else.”

“You don’t?” Davy gave me a pitying smile. “It’s because they knew you wouldn’t say no. You never say no when someone needs something.”

I raised one eyebrow. “You think so, huh?”

“Not that it’s a bad thing,” Sid amended quickly. “We appreciate the place, and we especially appreciate you didn’t say no to the food and booze.”

“Free booze,” Davy added.

“The best kind,” Sid said.

“Enjoy it, boys,” I said, “’cause this is the last free booze you’ll see here in a long, long time.”

For all my grumpiness, everything did seem to be going just fine. People were clumped up in small groups talking, Hounds and members of the Authority mixed and blended as if they’d been gathering like this for years. No one appeared to be fishing for secrets, crossing lines, getting their memories taken away.

Maybe we’d get through the next couple hours without anything bad happening.

A girl could dream anyway.

Then the door opened and Anthony Bell walked in. He paused just inside the doorway as if expecting to be immediately thrown out.

“Fuck me,” Davy growled.

“I invited him to come by,” I said. “Not tonight, and he was supposed to call, but I did invite him, Davy. He wants to be a Hound. And as long as the rules of the den are followed—Pike’s rules—he can have his chance.”

“Aren’t you done defending him?” Davy asked. “He’s a loser, Allie. He’s a nothing.”

“He’s a Hound,” I said in my boss voice. “That means he’s a part of us until he does something to make us kick him out.”

“Killing Pike wasn’t enough?”

I ignored that. Davy and I had rehashed Pike’s death plenty of times. And while I didn’t expect Davy to forgive Anthony, it wasn’t only Anthony’s fault that Pike died. Pike had gone into a dangerous situation without any backup—breaking one of his own rules he set for the Hounds—and had done so even though he’d agreed he would take the police with him.

“I ran into him and his mother this morning,” I said. “She’s nice, Davy. Pike liked her and took Anthony on because he cared about her. She cares about her son. I owe Ant a second chance. And he’s getting one. You don’t have to be around when he’s here. You don’t have to be a part of it.”

“I hate everything about this,” he mumbled over the neck of his beer bottle as he took another drink.

“Noted,” I said. “Leave him alone, okay? I don’t want to see you two within twenty feet of each other.”

“I go where you go.”

“We’ll see. Stay out of my way tonight. This is a pretty open floor plan, and everyone here is a friend. You’ve got good eyes and ears. Use them.”

I walked over toward Anthony, who, once he realized he wasn’t getting kicked out, had helped himself to a Red Bull and some chips.

“Didn’t think you’d show up tonight,” I said.

“Saw Zay’s car outside and figured you’d be here. I called. Jamar said you were here.”

“Next time call me. My cell,” I said.

“All right.” He shrugged. “What’s the party for?”

“Friend of Zayvion’s who died.”

“Who?”

“Her name was Chase.”

He shook his head. “Didn’t know her.”

“She was nice.”

The last word didn’t come out quite as convincing as I’d hoped.

“But you didn’t like her, eh?”

“She was also Zayvion’s ex-girlfriend.” And that pretty much explained it all.

Anthony looked across the room, spotted Zay, who was staring out the window. Victor was still standing next to him, also looking out the window. Neither of them was talking. It didn’t look like either of them had won the argument, but Zay had dropped the Mute and Distraction.

“Ex,” Anthony said. “Right.” He turned back to me. “This a private thing? Want me to go?”

I wanted to say yes, but I was done trying to keep all the parts of my life from colliding. “Don’t go anywhere near Davy. He’ll kick your ass.”

“Got it.” Anthony’s voice was a little quieter, and more serious than I’d heard before. Maybe there was a chance he had learned a thing or two. “Anything else I should know about the people here?”

“Nothing I can think of.”

“Then I’m gonna get some food, okay?”

“That’s what it’s here for. The next Hound meeting—the next real one where we work out who’s covering which part of town and who they’re partnered with—will be Monday morning, seven o’clock. Got that?”

“I’ll be there.”

He finished off his drink and strolled to the stove, where he ladled a bowl full of the soup.

I thought about telling him he should also keep his hands off Sunny, since Davy and she seemed to have a thing going, but hell, he’d figure it out.

I snagged a beer out of the refrigerator and wandered across the room, saying my hellos to a few people while I took a winding route to Zayvion.

I was pretty sure he didn’t see me coming, was pretty sure he didn’t hear me.

Still, before I was close enough that both he and Victor should sense me, Zayvion shifted and gave me a smile over his shoulder. “Hey.”

Victor stirred and turned. “Thank you for offering this place, Allie,” he said, leaning his hip against the windowsill. “It’s . . . refreshing.”

I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Victor since he’d been fired from being a Voice of the Authority for Faith magic.

He didn’t look like he was taking the news too badly. As a matter of fact, he looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. Instead of the perpetual suit and tie, he was wearing a button-down shirt and jeans. I’d never seen him in jeans. He didn’t look like he’d gotten any sleep, but the wary edge he carried in his eyes and body language had softened slightly. Maybe getting fired was a good thing for him.

“No problem,” I said. “How are you doing?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Fine, in the long term. In short-term matters, I have . . . concerns over the direction Bartholomew is taking things, but nothing so great I think I should call foul.”

“They fired you.” I said.

He shrugged. “They had to put the blame on someone they could discipline. That someone was me.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“No.” He looked at me, his eyes hard with anger. “I am very much not okay with that.”

“They’re idiots for what they’ve done,” Zayvion said, pretty much voicing my opinion. “I don’t know how I can follow that man. He doesn’t even understand what he’s doing, much less how to use magic—”

“Your job,” Victor said. “Following him means you are doing your job. And your superior’s capabilities aren’t yours to question, Zayvion. You might not like him, but you will do as he says. No matter what he asks you to do.” Here he gave Zay a hard look. This was obviously a point of contention between them. “That is your duty. To follow orders.”

Zay scowled.

Victor didn’t seem to care. “It’s important we get things back on an even keel. This is no time to be questioning our jobs, our duty, or the methods of those who are in charge. This is the time to make sure all the loose ends get tied up and things go back to normal.”

“He fired you,” Zay said quietly. “If you’re not a part of ... it,” he said, to avoid saying “the Authority,” “it will never be back to normal.”

Victor pressed his lips together in a hard line. This had all the earmarks of the argument they’d gone over many times.

“Making hasty and uninformed decisions won’t help anything, Zayvion,” Victor said, though he was looking at me. “You getting angry does none of us any good and it certainly won’t serve your ability to perform your duties.”

“So how about another beer?” I handed Zay the beer and he took it. He was carefully reconstructing his mask of calm again, though I could feel his annoyance. “What’s up with Anthony?” he asked.

“I told him he could come by if he called. He called. He came by. He has lousy timing.”

Zay checked to see where Davy was in the room—still next to Sid, though Sunny had left the poker game to join them. She took Davy’s hand and wandered off to the far side of the room with him. She walked until his back was against the wall, then took the beer bottle away from him. Davy was smiling now.

Sunny stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. Thoroughly.

Well, looked like things were working out for those two.

“Zayvion tells me you had your backpack stolen,” Victor said, in a very nice small-talk segue.

I looked away from the lovebirds. “Nothing in there but my gym clothes, so they didn’t get anything. Stupid and annoying, though.”

“Did you track him?”

“What?”

“Did you use magic to track him?”

“I tried. Blew the spell. I wasn’t feeling very well after my meeting with the new boss.”

Zayvion slouched so his hip was propped against the windowsill.

“Have you been using magic much, Allie?” Victor asked.

“As much as always, I guess. Why?”

“I was curious. I heard you had a strong reaction to magic when you saw Bartholomew. Dr. Fisher told me,” he said to answer my unspoken question. “And Zayvion also brought it to my attention.”

That was interesting. Victor wasn’t a Voice anymore, which should mean he didn’t have any sway in the Authority. Or at least no more than any other person. And yet both Zay and Dr. Fisher had gone to him with concerns about me. For Zay it made sense, I guess. Victor had been his teacher, mentor, and boss for years. But I didn’t expect Dr. Fisher to go to him about me.

“We’ve all used more magic than normal lately,” he said. “I wondered if it contributed to your discomfort.”

“Could have.” I walked up closer to Zayvion and looked out the window. “Or it might have been because his right-hand chick is a bitch and took her time to make sure that Truth cut deep.”

“Oh?”

“She put pain in it, Victor. On purpose. And she enjoyed it.”

“Hmm,” he said.

Zay didn’t glance at him, but I could tell this was another part of the argument they’d been having.

I didn’t know what good arguing with Victor would do. He had no more power than the rest of us now.

“Has he assigned someone to your place?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Victor said. “Though I suggested a few people I thought would be well suited to the position.”

“Who?”

He shook his head. “Let’s see what he does, who he chooses.” He drank the last of his scotch. “It will say a lot about him.” He gave me a steady look, glanced at Zay, who had gone back to staring at the city beyond the window, and said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to refresh my drink.” Victor placed his hand kindly on Zayvion’s arm, then strolled off to the kitchen.

I leaned my shoulder against Zay and felt the heat of his anger, mixed with frustration and sadness. And, almost like a top note on too many deep scents, his relief that I was there, next to him.

“And everyone says I worry too much,” I mumbled as I slipped my arm around his waist, hooking my finger in the belt loop of his jeans.

He shifted his beer to his left hand and draped his arm around me. “You do,” he said.

“So do you,” I said.

“I hide it better.”

That was true. I stared out at the street, content in his arms, content in this moment, content that he was sharing some of his sorrow with me, holding me instead of pushing me away.

Evening was coming on, the day not yet ready to give up to dusk, but the sunlight gone a deep tangerine orange and gold, cutting yellow edges over the buildings and casting blue shadows below. A few people walked the street, many of them headed to Get Mugged or coming out of it, and I realized once again that Grant had set up a very successful business that seemed only to be getting more popular.