“This is Slostich Island,” Annalise said. “The little a is Walter Roi’s cabin. That’s where we expect to find Wally King. For once, there are no other residences nearby, although it’s not completely isolated. The southern end of the island is where all the people are. The north end is scattered cabins, a few retreats, and protected forest. Memorize that map, because we’re not bringing it ashore. With luck, we’ll reach the cabin, kill the target, and be back on the water in two hours with no one the wiser.”
There was a little mark on the paper where we were coming ashore. It was some sort of park, and it looked to be about a mile from the cabin. “Will there be a car for us, boss?”
“Not unless we steal one. There was no time to arrange it.”
I nodded, but I didn’t like it. A mile wasn’t far to walk if you’re going for pad thai, but fleeing the scene of a murder—and probably an arson—was another thing entirely, especially on a long strip of land with what appeared to be two north/south roads running through heavy woods.
Talbot looked at us, irritated. He waved the plastic sheet cover at me. “In the service, we had blue-force tracking. We had computers and … not fucking Google maps! We flew here on a private jet, but we can’t afford a GPS?”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Annalise snapped. “The jet is Csilla’s. She spent a couple of centuries killing people and taking their shit. You haven’t. We’re lucky we have someone in place to take us by boat.”
“We could do better, is all I’m saying. Do we really have to go the whole way by boat?”
“Did you bring your passport?” Captain asked.
Talbot took a deep breath. “No.”
“I’m a convicted felon,” I said. “There’s no way they’d let me through a checkpoint.”
Annalise scowled at Talbot. “So we cross the border. We surprise King in his home, hopefully while he’s asleep. We kill the hell out of him. We cross back into U.S. waters and fly east before anyone even knows about the body.”
East? I almost corrected her, when I noticed Captain take the unsealed envelope out of her satchel. She opened it and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside. I couldn’t read it, but I saw that it was a short, printed letter. Captain looked it over grimly, then put it back into the envelope and shut it inside a compartment below the steering wheel.
We cruised for about an hour. I studied the map off and on. I’d never been much for learning things off paper, but I went back to it several times until I was sure I had it down.
Finally, Captain turned off the engine. We floated a thousand feet off the Washington coast, gently rolling with the waves. Talbot looked alarmed. “Why did we stop?”
“We’ll cross into Canadian waters after dark. Sunset’s just after eight P.M., which is … two hours from now. Try to act like we’re out for some summer sun. Maybe no one will pay attention to us.”
I closed my eyes and lay back on the cushions. I was going to see Wally King again. Did he sleep with all those predators inside him? I hoped so. We could destroy the creatures and him at the same time.
How simple that seemed. How right. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t sleep.
After night fell, Captain started the engines again. We puttered forward, obviously in no hurry. She told us we had another five hours, more or less, before we reached our target.
We rode in silence. After three hours, Captain brought out a cooler and slid it to Annalise. She took out four bags of fast-food burgers, fries, and soda. The drinks were watery and the food was cold and greasy. I was hungry enough not to care.
I kept my eye out for patrol boats, but no one approached us. The trip was smooth and easy right up to the moment Captain pointed out our landing spot, and Annalise took out the guns.
CHAPTER TEN
They were revolvers, old Magnum .44s like the ones Clint Eastwood used to carry, and they were sealed in gallon-sized Ziploc baggies. There were two speed loaders in the bag, too. Talbot looked at his as though he’d been asked to dig a grave with a soup ladle, but I took mine without comment. I didn’t expect it to be much use, but I appreciated the thought.
There were only two, of course. Annalise didn’t need one.
Captain killed the engines and let momentum carry the boat toward the shore. There was a steep beach ahead and a line of trees at the top of the hill. Captain turned the wheel, letting the boat swing around. Annalise, Talbot, and I jumped off the port side into water up to our thighs—on Annalise it was up to her navel. Damn, it was cold, but no one else complained, so I kept my mouth shut.
Talbot ran ahead, yanking the gun out of the baggie as he left the water and charging up the sand as if he was storming the beach at Normandy. I hissed at him, but he ignored me.
I was surprised to come out of the water onto a flat, grainy tan rock. In the starlight it had looked like a stretch of sand, but it was actually solid and smooth like a boat-launch ramp. Annalise and I walked slowly up the hill, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and Talbot came out of the trees to join us.
I took the gun from the baggie, folded the plastic and put it into my back pocket, then stuffed the speed loaders into my hip pocket. I wasn’t wearing a jacket, and no way would I slip this blaster into my waistband. Life was too chancy. I carried it by the barrel instead.
It was about three hundred feet to the road, then we turned toward the south. It was almost midnight, and of course there were no streetlights. The starlight was bright enough for what we were doing, but flashlights would have been better.
We jogged along the side of the road. Talbot ran ahead, although I’m sure he thought of it as taking point. There was no sidewalk, of course, so we trotted along the asphalt. I turned around every ten steps, watching for headlights behind us. Not that it mattered: the gully along the road was choked with bush and brambles. We couldn’t exactly dive for cover.
We didn’t need to. No one came. The moon rose over the trees, lighting the roadway. I ran toward my own faint shadow.
At the mouth of a driveway, Talbot stopped and looked back at us. He made some sort of hand signal I didn’t recognize, but Annalise beckoned him toward us impatiently. When he came close, she said: “This is it, isn’t it?”
I’d forgotten that Annalise was hopeless with maps. Talbot said: “Yeah. Shouldn’t we get off the road?”
Annalise shrugged, and the three of us started moving up the drive. I felt a twinge on my right collarbone.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Talbot suddenly said, rubbing the top of his breastbone with two fingers. “This is the wrong place.”
I felt it, too. I was suddenly sure this was the wrong path. Why hadn’t I studied the map better? My iron gate throbbed.
Talbot began backing down toward the road. “Let’s try somewhere else.”
“Talbot,” I said, “are any of your spells hurting?”
He was still rubbing the spot on his chest. “Yeah.”
“There’s a spell on this place,” I said. “Some kinds of magic can make you think or feel certain things. Pay attention to the spells on you. They’re painful for a reason.”
Talbot looked embarrassed and walked with me toward Annalise. “Want me to lead the way?” he asked.
A cloud moved across the moon, and things were suddenly very dark. “Is that how you want it?” Annalise asked. She took a scrap of wood out of her pocket and lit a Bic lighter. I recognized the scrap as one of her Geiger counters for magic, but the sigil was dark and inert.
The cloud moved away from the moon. I looked around. Everything seemed completely normal. “Shouldn’t you be getting a reading from that thing, boss?” If magic was making my iron gate throb, her detector should show it.