“I have Mzatal,” I said. “And it’s not screwy. I get it. Bryce really cares about you.” I knew damn well he didn’t take that bullet for Paul simply because it was his job. I closed the first aid kit and handed Paul the clean t-shirt.
He pulled it on then looked down at the pale form of Thatcher on the bed. “He does.” A smile touched his mouth. “He does really care. It’s like having the best big brother ever sometimes.” He took a deep breath, shifted his attention back to me and abruptly changed the subject. “Mzatal. From another world. Wow.” A weak chuckle slipped out. “Sorry, still trying to get a handle on it. I mean, he used magic—”
“Arcane,” I put in, then shrugged. “Doesn’t sound quite as weird then.”
Paul managed a crooked smile. “Right. Arcane. He used it to heal Bryce and,” he paled, gulped, “kill that other guy. Oh my god. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“He’s got some mojo when he’s worked up,” I said with a nod.
“Mojo,” he echoed. “That’s putting it mildly, to say the least. I mean, I felt it before, big time, when he was doing his thing to Bryce,” he continued, growing more animated, “but when he stood up, whoa!”
“It’s definitely palpable,” I agreed, hiding a smile at the awe in Paul’s expression.
“What was the deal?” he asked. “Who were those guys? He killed one, just like that. Blam!”
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. I wonder if Mzatal knows he has a fanboy now? “They work for the lords who did this to me,” I said, sobering a bit as I tapped my chest, indicating the scars. “Those lords want this world, and they don’t intend to be nice about it.”
His eyes widened. “Want this world?” He took a few seconds to process that. “This is big stuff,” he stated, as if the fact that another world existed was old news now.
“It sure is,” I said, doing my best to keep a serious expression. If not for Mzatal’s assessment and assurance that Paul wasn’t a threat to us, I might have worried that Paul’s ingenuous nature was simply part of an act to gain my trust. But I trusted Mzatal, and I knew he’d pick up anything suspicious the instant it cropped up.
“My torture wasn’t simply for torture’s sake,” I told him. “It was part of a ritual meant to make me a thrall, a powerful tool for them to construct a permanent arcane gate between their world and ours, and more.”
“And you really want me and Bryce to go to the other world?” he asked, an eager edge in his voice now.
I managed to give him an appropriately serious nod. “It would only be for a day or two,” I said, “but I truly believe it would be for the best.”
“It would be,” he agreed, then grimaced. “Big Mack will look for us. He’ll find out we were brought here.”
“You’re pretty valuable to your boss,” I said. “I’m sure they’ll be hunting for you.”
His brow creased. “How do you know that? I mean, that I’m valuable.”
I lowered myself to sit on the ottoman. “Because your boss went to the trouble of kidnapping you.”
He hunched in on himself. “Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”
I eyed him, remembering what Mzatal had said about residuals of the influence and compulsion from Farouche. “You’re still afraid of him.”
“It’s better now,” he said slowly. “Way better since Lord Mzatal did . . . whatever he did.” He looked down at his hands, clenched and unclenched them as if making sure they worked. “Mr. Farouche never hurt me or anything. He made sure I had all the medical care and surgeries the doctors recommended. Gave me everything I needed. Hell, just about anything I wanted, too. He’s just . . . ” Paul shivered and rubbed his arms, then sighed. “Yeah. He still scares me.”
“I think Lord Mzatal can help you more with that,” I said, then stood. “I’m going to scrounge up some food. You sit tight here, and I’ll bring something in for you.”
He gave me a wavering smile. “Thanks, Kara, for everything.”
I returned the smile. “Sure thing, Paul.” I left the room and headed to the kitchen.
And hopefully you’ll be able to repay the favor by using your valuable computer skills to help us find Idris.
Chapter 13
I found various snack fixings and piled them onto a TV tray that dated back to when I was a kid. The front door opened, and I turned to see Ryan come in. He dropped his keys on the table in the hall and continued my way.
“Don’t you know how to have a quiet day?” he asked sourly.
I put on my best baffled look. “Kuh . . . kuh why-et dey? I do not know this phrase.”
He laughed. “I agree. It is beyond your comprehension.”
“No kidding!” I lifted my chin toward the hall door. “Thatcher and Ortiz are in there.” I shuffled items around on the tray. “I told Mzatal he should go back to the demon realm soon, and that he should take those two with him. Thatcher needs a lot more healing, and it would be good to keep Ortiz off the radar for a while.” I quickly filled him in on what I’d learned about Paul’s forced recruitment and the injuries and beatings from his dad.
“He’s been through a lot,” Ryan agreed after I finished. “What’s the deal? How’d someone like that end up at the intersection of you and Katashi’s people?”
“Dunno, but Thatcher’s name was in one of Tracy Gordon’s notebooks, along with another dozen or so names.”
Ryan let out a low whistle. “Maybe he knows more about this stuff than Ortiz thinks he does.”
“That’s possible,” I said. “Paul seems innocent enough in all of this, but Thatcher could be in deep.” I snorted. “Their time with Mzatal should be pretty enlightening.” The demonic lord would pull every shred of information out of both men if it could increase our chances of finding Idris.
“Maybe I should take a vacation to the demon realm,” Ryan said with a grin.
I managed to give a light laugh. “I think it would do you a world of good.”
He snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure they’d looooooove me there.” The demons called him kiraknikahl, oathbreaker. That meant most demons looked upon him with varying degrees of animosity. Eilahn had settled into tolerant-but-not-too-tolerant, only allowing that much latitude because we were around him all the time. I still didn’t have the full story of what happened and what oath he broke, though it seemed that some of the bans against even speaking of it had been eased.
“Right now I’m just worried about Mzatal,” I said, totally ducking having to make a reply to his comment.
“What’s wrong with the fuc—I mean, what’s wrong with him?”
I shot him a sour look. “He’s away from his power base, he did a major healing, and he laid a huge smackdown on one of Katashi’s men.”
“He’s fading,” Ryan said with a slow nod, eyes growing distant. “Shows he shouldn’t fucking be here.” His breath quickened, and his face twisted in agitation. “He shouldn’t be here!”
“Hey, where’s Zack?” I asked a little too loudly as I recognized an agitated Szerain coming through.
The distraction worked. Ryan blinked and looked over at me. “Uh, he must still be out front. Jill called when we pulled up, and they sort of got into it.” He winced, shook his head. “There’ve been some pretty rocky times in these last few months.”
Dismay wound through me. “Shit. Why?” I asked. “They were so into each other.”
He leaned back against the counter and tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his pants. “He’s not spending as much time with her as he used to,” he explained. “She’s not happy about it, and he doesn’t want to talk about it.” His face twisted in frustration. “I’m hoping he isn’t done with her. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s never been in a serious relationship.” He snorted. “Or even a not-serious relationship. Just some short flings. Nothing stable. Nothing until Jill.”