Is any of this ringing true? I asked Maggie.
All of it, she said hesitantly.
He really wants to team up?
Yeah …
He’s terrified of whatever killed Kimberly. I thought about this for a moment. I don’t consider myself a bad person either, but my gut instinct was to leave Nick to his fate and hope it happened before he could make a deal with OtherOps. Even as the thought went through my head, I knew that I couldn’t do it. I may work for some pretty horrible clients, but I’m not a sociopath. What do you think?
I think we hear him out.
The answer surprised me. An hour ago Maggie had repeated her desire to turn Nick into a pile of ash. Now she was considering this? I suppose that helped me out of a moral dilemma.
Nick nodded at Maggie’s ring. “What does your friend say?”
It was my turn to glance over my shoulder. But there was no one close enough to overhear us. “She still not thrilled with your attempt to kill me or kidnap her.”
“Like I said,” Nick repeated, swallowing hard, “that was business. I’m sorry.”
He is, Maggie scoffed, though he’s probably sorrier that he got mixed up in this shit than he is for what he actually tried to do.
I considered Nick for a couple of moments before reaching into my endless wallet. I fished around and came up with a business card that I’d gotten from Kimberly back before OtherOps took her in. It had a phone number and the name MATTHIAS in small letters in the corner. I set it on the table and pushed it over in front of Nick. “He’s a magician,” I told him. “Apparently he and Maggie had a spat back in the day. He trapped her in the ring. We’re not sure just how aggressively he’s still trying to recover Maggie’s ring, but he’s definitely the person who put Kimberly on Maggie’s trail. I’m pretty dang sure he’s the one who arranged Kimberly’s death.”
Nick stared at the card. “My uncle always said magicians are bad news.”
“That’s one way of putting it. So. You called me here. What exactly does an alliance do for me? You’re stuck in a cell for the next few years, I imagine.”
Nick tore his eyes away from the card and leaned back in his seat, looking at the wall behind me with a thousand-yard stare. I was beginning to imagine he’d rethought his course of action when he finally spoke up. “All you need to do is retract your earlier statement that I attacked you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m still on the hook for that Starbucks, and for bringing two draugr into a public place, but those are misdemeanors. If you retract your statement, my uncle’s lawyers can have me out of here in a week.”
“And?”
“And I give myself much better odds of surviving this stupid magician if I’m free to use my own powers and I have a reaper on my side.”
Is he still … I asked Maggie.
This is all true, she told me reluctantly. No double-cross, no deceit. This is really his plan.
I didn’t like the idea of recanting a statement to OtherOps. They were already mad enough that I wouldn’t give them more details about why Nick attacked me. They were going to be pissed when I took away their biggest leverage against him. On the other hand, I didn’t have a firm counter for a magician. If Matthias decided to cut the cat-and-mouse bullshit and attack me straight out, I would probably be a grease stain within moments. Having a genuine sorcerer of my own to counter him – even one as inexperienced as Nick – might be my best chance.
I think this might be a good idea, I said slowly to Maggie. But I’ll let you make the call. We’re equally involved here.
I could practically feel Maggie pacing around in her ring, grumbling angrily to herself. I held up a finger to Nick, indicating that he should give us a minute to let Maggie think. Ask him some straightforward questions.
I said, “If you get out of here, are you going to run for it?”
“No,” Nick answered, his expression darkening. “You don’t deal with magicians by hiding from them. They’ll always find you.”
“You won’t double-cross me?”
“You’re … the two of you are my only real allies in this. So no.”
“What about your rich uncle?”
“He’s rich, not a magician. Besides, I don’t want to involve him in this.”
“And you won’t say a word to OtherOps about Maggie or her ring?”
“I promise,” he said with a nod.
Maggie sighed. He’s on the level. Okay. Make the deal.
I put out my hand. Relief flashed across Nick’s face and he took it, shaking firmly. “You won’t regret it,” he said.
“Sure damned hope not,” I told him, getting to my feet. I pulled out one of my business cards and scribbled my home address on it. “Once you get out, get in contact and we’ll make a plan to deal with Matthias. I’ll retract my statement to OtherOps this afternoon.” I took my leave, checking out of the prison and heading downtown, where I spent the next couple of hours with a very irritated OtherOps agent. I managed to avoid running into Justin and answering those uncomfortable questions, and then I headed back to Hinkley over on the west side.
When I walked into Mum’s Hearth and Yard, Mum herself was nowhere to be seen. A young woman, probably nineteen or twenty with dark hair, a round, thoughtful face, and a Mum’s Hearth and Yard T-shirt greeted me from behind the register. I gave her my best smile and tugged on the OtherOps windbreaker I’d thrown on. Her T-shirt said Ava on it, and I thanked some nameless deity that I’d found Michael’s girlfriend.
“Hi there, Ms. Holmes,” I said in as nonthreatening a manner as I could manage. She blinked back at me sweetly. I couldn’t feel a drop of guile in her expression. She looked so sweet and naive that it made my face hurt.
“Can I help you with something, sir?”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry to bother you at work, but I was hoping that you could help me find Michael Pavlovich.” I produced one of my fake business cards, one emblazoned with the OtherOps logo and a number that forwarded to my real one.
Her brow wrinkled momentarily, and she gave me a very serious, considered nod. “Mum told me you came in a couple days ago asking about Michael.”
“That’s right, I did.” I was suddenly very tired. Tired of lying to people. Tired of hunting. Tired of being forced to be the bad guy. I kept that gentle smile glued to my face. “Do you have any idea where he’s gone?”
“I do.”
“… really?” The forthrightness of it was so unexpected that I wasn’t really sure what to say next.
“I do,” she repeated herself. “Are you really trying to help him?”
“I am.”
She hesitated for a few moments, examining my business card like a forensic expert. Finally, she said, “Okay, I believe you. He’s lost, Mr. Fitz. Scared. He has dangerous people trying to catch him. He needs help.” She searched her pockets, then produced a scrap of paper on which was written an address. “I met him for lunch at this boys home in Brooklyn Centre yesterday. You should be able to find him there.”
I took the paper. “Oh. I … thank you.” I felt a huge surge of guilt. “Dangerous people” probably meant me. This innocent kid had just handed me her boyfriend on a silver platter, thinking I was the cops. I could practically feel Maggie’s disapproval. A sudden thought interceded with the guilt, however, and I fixed Ava with a curious look. “Do you know who these dangerous people are?”