River of No Return Page 4

  “Hey, stranger,” I said to Alek.

  It was late afternoon and I hadn’t heard from him all day. No call to say he was missing lunch. A “something came up” text was it in response to my very definitely not clingy girlfriend text. Singular. I had only sent him one, right after the fiasco with the door, not wanting to alarm him.

  “Hi.” He ran a distracted hand through shoulder-length white-blond hair that had been in a ponytail that morning but clearly fallen to the mercy of his nerves at some point during the afternoon. His face gave away little but from the tense set of his shoulders and the repressed energy in his movements, I knew Alek was unhappy about something.

  “I’m taking off,” Lara said with a glance between us. Shifters are better at reading body language than I am and her reaction to Alek’s appearance told me that I’d been dead on. “See you tomorrow.” She grabbed her backpack and was out the door before I could frame a response, leaving Alek and I alone in my shop.

  I stepped right into Alek’s personal zone and pressed my fingers against his sweat-damp chest. I had to tip my head back to look into his face but the small smile I got was worth it.

  “You first or me?” I asked.

  “I have nothing,” Alek said with a sigh. “Just possible trouble.”

  “No warm bodies to make scream and bleed?” I guessed.

  Alek’s reluctant smile turned into a toothy grin that would have scared the shit out of anyone who wasn’t totally sure of his feelings for them. Not me though. I’m a big girl without weak knees or a sudden desire to flee the tiger. Yep.

  “No bodies. Possible trouble with a former Council member,” he said.

  Motioning to the chairs by the war gaming demo table, I followed him and we sat where we had a good view of the door in case anyone came in to get their Pokemon card fix. He filled me in quickly on the details of his day.

  “The deputy we sent out to check around the Den saw nothing, so we did our own drive past. Neither of us could sense much. Lingering scent of wolf we did not recognize. Tire tracks that might be from anyone. Freyda is keeping everyone close now.”

  “Freyda is freaked out?” I said when he was done. I tried to imagine the tall, strong Alpha wolf scared of anything. She’d faced down a murderous former Justice and a bomb without blinking.

  “We do not like being helpless,” Alek said in Russian. His ice-blue eyes stared into the middle distance and whatever he saw in his mind’s eye made his shoulders hunch.

  “Hey.” I took one of his hands in mine, rubbing my thumbs over his warm palm. “Whatever trouble might come up, I got your back. We’ve dealt with everything thrown at us so far. Freyda isn’t alone. Neither are you.”

  His gaze came back to mine and his smile returned. “I know,” he said switching back to English. “I hate waiting without knowing full danger or having a good plan for it.”

  “That’s two of us,” I muttered, thinking about the damn door.

  “Your day was good?” Alek asked?

  “I got a delivery from Samir.”

  Alek’s head tipped slightly to the side and he raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to explain.

  “A door. A big fucking magic door that I have no idea what to do with.” I realized I’d let go of his hand and was clutching my D20 talisman, my thumb pressed to the hard nub of Samir’s heart gem.

  “Is it dangerous?”

  I let go of the talisman with effort. “No idea. I put it under ward in the storeroom.”

  “Then it will keep while we get dinner,” Alek said. He rose. “Steak?”

  “I have to keep the shop open for three more hours. That whole working for a living thing?”

  Alek looked around pointedly at the empty shop. It was not likely to be a busy night. Harper would probably come by. Levi probably wouldn’t since he was spending some quality time with his wife while his brother was on his honeymoon. Game was suspended for the moment and no new expansions had come out this month yet for any of our current favorites.

  “Very subtle,” I said, rolling my eyes at him. “My boss will let me off this once, I guess.” I thought about pantomiming asking myself for permission, but from Alek’s expression he was still tired, frustrated, and probably hungry. Snark would not placate a hungry tiger.

  I grabbed my keys from under the counter. I dashed off a quick note saying we were closed early tonight and would open again normal hours the following day. Joy of a small town, people expected that kind of notice or they’d probably call the police worrying I was being murdered in here or something. I stuck the note to the door, flipped the sign to “closed” and locked up.

  “I’m all yours, tiger,” I said.

  A cool shower, a very sweaty “let’s help each other forget all our cares” session, another cool shower, and a plate of grilled meat later, I felt like I could conquer the world. Samir’s games aside, he was stuck in my necklace and I was living my life to its fucking fullest.

  We had just put on the new King Arthur movie when Alek reached for the controller and paused it, his head cocked.

  “People coming?” I asked. I felt the familiar thrum of my magic as I let it flow into me. I was really itching for a fight and it made me nervous. Could I not handle a boring life? Boring always sounded so nice when I was in the middle of things going sideways with a helping of everyone I love in mortal danger.

  I heard footsteps on the stairs leading up to our apartment. Whoever it was wasn’t being subtle. Nor had they set off the wards. Two sets of footsteps. Harper and Levi? Harper usually texted first these days.

  “Ciaran and Brie,” Alek said.

  I let go of my magic but my apprehensive feelings grew. My neighbors wouldn’t just pop over for a social call without warning. It wasn’t exactly their old-school way. Unless something important that could only be discussed in person had come up.

  Alek was in sweats but I only had a teeshirt on. Racing into our bedroom, I tugged on sweatpants. Alek went to open the door and I heard him greeting the leprechaun and the baker goddess as he invited them in.

  Ciaran was dressed in one his red sweaters, as though the temperature of the evening outside wasn’t still well over seventy. Brie’s muscular frame was casually clad in a simple green teeshirt and pair of jeans. Their faces were solemn and neither returned my smile as I came into the kitchen.

  “Not a social call?” I guessed, skipping the pleasantries since it seemed like they weren’t in the mood.

  “Sorry, Jade,” Brie said. “I don’t think this is good news.”

  “We’ve been called to Ireland, to the underbarrow.” Ciaran spit the words out like they were sharp and might cut him. He flopped down into one of my kitchen chairs with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his copper and silver curls.

  Brie remained standing.

  I digested this news, remembering the last time they had been called away. The winter Samir attacked. From my friends’ grim faces, they were recalling this, too.

  “Did they give you a reason?” I said, leaning on the back of one of the chairs. “Do you want a cup of tea?” I added, remembering my manners.

  “Ice tea?” Ciaran asked.

  “Of course, with lots of sugar.” I smiled and went to get him a glass.

  “No explanation. No warning. I don’t like it. Not while Iollan is away, either. But their demand was clear and we leave very early tomorrow morning.” Brie nodded as I held up a second glass.

  I distributed ice tea and finally Brie sat, her expression clouded as she sipped absently from the glass in her hand.

  “There’s been some whispers of trouble from the former Council of Nine,” I said, glancing at Alek who had taken a chair beside me. I wasn’t sure how much to say. I trusted Brie and Ciaran with my life, for they’d been there for all of us when it counted.

  When they were able. They were Fey and answered to different laws and a different court than the rest of us.

  “Storm is in the air,” Brie said with a nod. “Don’t know what fo
rm it’ll take though. Just a feeling in my bones.”

  “All our bones, then,” I said. I poked at the condensation on my glass but didn’t drink. “Still, we’ll manage. We always do.”

  “We’ll send word if we can. Through Iollan.” Ciaran drained his cup.

  “Does he know?” I asked, thinking of poor Ezee, Iollan, and the honeymoon. The newlyweds would get no peace.

  “We haven’t told him. He’ll be angry but there’s nothing he can do and we didn’t want to ruin his honeymoon.” Brie pinned me with her gaze as she finished her tea.

  “I won’t breathe a word,” I said. I wouldn’t. I didn’t want their special trip ruined either. “Not to Levi or anyone. Though your shops being closed will cause questions.”

  “We’ve taken care of that with notices on the doors. Family emergency,” Ciaran said. His smile showed teeth but no mirth.

  “Good luck, then,” I said. “I’ll try not to blow up anything in your absence.” I meant it as a joke, but given past history, nobody laughed.

  Brie and Ciaran left Alek and I sitting at the kitchen table, staring at four empty glasses. The invisible storm swirled somewhere out in the maybe horizon, danger coming for us sideways.

  I found myself holding my talisman again, Samir’s gem digging a divot in my thumb as I pressed down. I wasn’t good with threats I couldn’t handle with a fireball or five. The trouble with the broken Council and whatever was about to happen that the Fey were planning for or dealing with was all nebulous still, danger potential but not realized. Sword of Damocles and all that shit.

  “I’m gonna burn Samir’s fucking door tomorrow,” I said aloud.

  “Let tomorrow be tomorrow,” Alek said. He got to his feet and pulled me to mine. He didn’t stop pulling until I was pressed against his warmth. “You promised me movie with war elephants.” His breath was soft against my hair as he leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

  I leaned into his chest and smiled, letting go of the talisman. Somehow, once again, Alek knew the right words.

  Apparently our part of Idaho was in for one of the hottest summers on record and there was a high fire warning in effect. I was a good citizen and looked up burning regulations while I tried to form a plan for destroying the door without inadvertently destroying anything else.

  So no legal door burning. I’d have to find a spot, like the old quarry, and set up a super safe circle to burn it in or something. It would have to wait.

  “That was a big sigh,” Harper commented from her chair by the counter in the game store.

  Lara had the day off so she could get stuff done for finals, so it was just Harper and me holding down the fort. Not that there was much fort to be held down. Four people had stopped in already, but they were all locals asking if I knew why Brie’s Bakery was closed even though she’d posted a sign. I just played dumb and repeated the story of family emergency even though the temptation to tell the truth and have nobody believe me was strong.

  “County regulations blow,” I said to Harper. “Can’t just burn whatever you want when you want. And they say this is the land of freedom.”

  “What do you want to burn? Levi has a fire pit.” Harper gave me a weird look over the top of her laptop screen.

  “Samir sent me a door,” I said. I figured the door thing would come out eventually anyway. Samir wasn’t a topic I felt safe broaching with Harper though. There were still strained edges from what he’d done to her family. What he’d done to all of us.

  “Like, an ‘in case of my death mail this’ sort of door?” Harper’s green eyes narrowed.

  “Basically. It’s magic. I have no idea what it does, and I’m going to burn it to ashes as soon as I can.” I folded my arms.

  “Sweet. I’ll help,” she said with a smile best described as gleefully homicidal.

  The shop door chimed, saving me from having to awkwardly transition the conversation. Two middle-aged white men wearing dark suits entered. They looked serious, business-like even. My customers don’t usually wear suits and try to look like TV FBI agents. I let magic sing in my veins as I warily walked a few steps toward them.

  “Spycraft books are over there,” I said, motioning toward the shelves full of RPGs.

  “We’re here to speak to you, Jade Crow,” one of the men said. He was the older of the two and had a mustache that didn’t quite fluff up to pornstache standards but could get there with time and care.

  Now I was super on guard. Anyone who uses your full name like that is, in my experience, someone you never want to talk to.

  “What about?” I said, putting some edge in my tone. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Harper put down her laptop and stand.

  “Government business. Is there somewhere we can talk?” Stache said.

  “Privately,” the younger, blonder man added with a glance at Harper.

  “Nah,” I said. No way was I letting them get alone with me. Or me with them, given how much I was itching for a fight and it wasn’t even their fault. “Here is good. Who are you and what do you want?”

  “We’re from the United States Government,” Stache said. “We need to speak with you about Samir Cartwright.”

  Cartwright? I wondered how many names Samir had. He’d had so many lives. Taken so many lives. I pushed away the thought.

  “What about him?” I said. “And do you have identification?” Because who introduces themselves as “from the Government” who is actually from the government? They hadn’t set off the wards so they were probably human, but humans could be as dangerous as supernaturals. More so, in my experience, ‘cause it was easy to underestimate them.

  The men glanced at each other and then they both reached with deliberate slowness into their suits and produced flip folder ID cases straight out of television. I stepped closer, magic ready to shield or blast, and squinted at the IDs. Department of Homeland Security but with a small NoS designation under the official titles.

  Not Otherwise Specified. I’d run into them before. I couldn’t recall if they’d been under DHS or the FBI at that point. Clearly some reshuffling had happened since I’d broken my bio-dad out of one of their secret prisons.

  They put away the IDs and I backed up a pace.

  “We need to know where Samir is,” Stache, whose ID had identified him as Special Agent Nichols, said.

  “Good luck with that,” I said. “I don’t know shit, sorry. Samir and I are old news.” I wondered if I should call a lawyer. But if they knew Samir was basically dead, why come ask me where he was?

  “He came to Wylde, and hasn’t been in contact with us since then,” Agent Marksen, not Special, said.

  “Sounds like a personal problem,” Harper said. She came to my side, her hands on her hips. “He came, he killed some witches, he left.” She was repeating the stuff that the NoS likely already knew, since their agent had been here when Peggy was murdered by Samir.

  That same agent, Salazar, had helped me break out my bio-dad and I wasn’t sure that was known. He had hopefully escaped but I had no idea what had happened after. It had been too chaotic at the time and my information line to people like that was severed since I’d had a falling out with the Archivist.

  “Good luck, though,” I said. “I’m sure if he wants to be in touch, he’ll contact you. He’s a dick that way.” I made sure to use present tense.

  Special Agent Nichols dropped the veneer of being friendly like it was an uncomfortable mask he was glad to shed. His eyes grew cold and his lips below his almost-impressive moustache turned pale as he pressed them against his teeth. I had to consciously not take a step back in the face of his naked hatred.

  “Samir Cartwright was a Government asset. If you have knowledge of his whereabouts or are involved in his disappearance, you would be wise to volunteer that information, Jade Crow.”

  “Using people’s full names is creepy,” I said, keeping my tone mild. I let my magic out, wrapping tendrils of it around various small objects. My tea mug. A few plastic containers o
f dice I hadn’t put prices on yet, the umbrella stand that nobody ever used but I kept by the door because it had dragons on it. With a mental tug I lifted every item into the air. Casually. Like you do.

  “We don’t know where Samir is. He’s a murderous asshole and if he’s crawled into a deep hole somewhere, good fucking riddance. If you want to talk to me after this, you can get in touch with my lawyer, Ms. Perkins at Perkins and Smitt.” I made a mental note to call Perky as soon as these guys were out of my shop.

  The agents backed up as Harper started to growl, their eyes darting around at the floating objects.

  “This is unwise, Ms. Crow,” Special Agent Nichols said. “Do not threaten us.”

  “Bye,” I said, using more power to hold the door open.

  Not special Agent Marksen caught his partner’s arm as Nichols appeared to reach for his gun. A look passed between them. Special Agent Nichols chose to shoot me a glare instead of trying a bullet. Smartest thing he’d done since walking into my shop.

  They left quickly, deliberately looking like they didn’t give two fucks about the growling shifter or annoyed sorceress behind them. I let the objects down gently and reluctantly let go of my magic. Harper had followed the suits to the door.

  “They got in to a dark sedan down the street, third guy driving,” she said as she came back inside and closed the door behind herself. “How hard was it not to just rub yourself like this and be all ‘he’s in mah belleh’?”

  I forced a grin even as my hand went to my talisman. Samir’s heart gem felt like a proverbial stone in the shoe of my life. I hadn’t found a good time to tell Harper that Samir was only mostly dead. I kept arguing with myself over if she really needed to know. I mean, he was pretty much as good as dead. But watching her do a silly little dance as she rubbed her stomach, I knew I had to say something. Secrets will eat a friendship alive if you let them fester.

  “Hey, furball,” I started to say, but then Blue October “She’s My Ride Home” started playing from my phone. Alek’s ringtone.