“Sunny. This is my thing. It’s not the Authority’s thing, it’s not Terric’s thing. Bill me.”
“If you don’t pay—”
“I will.”
“I know where you live, Flynn.”
“I know. Just call me if you find out anything.”
“I’ll call if you keep your phone on.”
“Promise.”
I could hear her sigh. “Anything else?” she asked.
“Have you seen Davy since you got back?”
“No. He said he’s on a job.”
“Who’s shadowing him?”
I heard the clicking of a computer mouse, as she looked up the job records.
“I don’t know.” She sounded concerned. “Do you know something about this?”
“Eli Collins is in the area. Davy knows it. There’s a chance he’s trying to hunt Eli on his own. When you find Davy—as I am certain you will—tie him down somewhere and keep him out of this, okay?”
“I will,” she said. “Shame?”
“What?”
“It’s nice to have you back.”
We both thumbed off our phones since that was about as much mutual affection as either of us could handle.
I sat there for a second thinking out my next move. I really was tired, but it wasn’t my most pressing problem.
That was how to deal with Jeremy before he harmed Terric.
I needed Jeremy out of the picture. But he was just a cog in the machine that wanted to use Terric. It made more sense to take out the mainspring of the operation. Which meant it was time for me to deliver a personal message to the Black Crane.
I’d been out of the loop on the criminal activity in the city for more than a year. I had no idea where the Black Crane was headquartered now, and it wasn’t really something I wanted to ask the police or the Hounds.
I needed someone who knew the dark side of the city and wouldn’t rat me out to the law, or anyone else, for that matter.
I knew just the man. I dialed. Waited. He picked up on the fourth ring.
“Cody Miller.”
“Cody, this is Shame. I need a favor.”
Back in the day, Cody and I had been young, reckless men. His terrible gambling skills had nearly gotten him killed, but his amazing ability with art and magic put him under Allie’s dad’s employ for a while, where he’d made wondrous things like Stone, the gargoyle. He had also been the best damn forger of magical signatures in the States—maybe in the world. That caught the attention of all sorts of unsavory folk and he eventually managed to get in the way of people, living and dead, who wanted to rule the Authority and magic.
To make sure he wouldn’t ruin their plans, he’d been Closed, several times. Finally his mind had broken. For several years, he’d been nothing but a childlike shell of a man. But when our last-ditch effort to save the world included trying to join light and dark magic, he had volunteered to be the Focal—the vessel in which magic would be joined again.
It should have killed him. Instead it mended his mind and destroyed his ability to use magic. Joining magic had changed him in good and strange ways, just like the rest of us. Just like the world.
“A favor? You owe me, Shame. I should be collecting from you.”
“What’s stopping you, mate?”
“Well, you don’t have a job.”
“Employment is overrated. This will be worth saying yes.”
“What are you up to?”
“I need to go make a point clear to some people.”
“People.”
“Black Crane.”
Silence, while he rolled that over. “Why?”
“It’s personal.”
“I’m going to need more than that if I’m getting into this with you.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“No, it’s a why.”
“They think Terric is their own personal bucket of magic they can dip into any time they want to.”
“Please tell me that’s not a euphemism.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “They are using him for the magic he can access, jackass. Life magic. And they want me to stay out of their way.”
“So you’re going to get in their way.”
“What can I say? I have a contrary nature.”
“They kill people, Shame. They make people disappear.”
“I know. And they think they own Terric.” I didn’t say any more. Didn’t have to. Cody could take the next logical step. As soon as Terric decided to turn on them, to leave Jeremy, or to refuse to do what they wanted, they’d kill him. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“You know I can’t use magic,” he said evenly.
“Not what I need you for.”
“Why do you need me?”
“I want what you know about who’s running the syndicate. I want your contacts. That’s all.”
“Come by. I’ll have what you need.”
“Thanks.”
He hung up. I checked the gun in my pocket. I’d never really used it much, but it was a great attention getter when people lost focus. Yes, it was loaded.
I started the car and took the shortest route to Cody’s place over on the east side of town. He’d taken the art scene by storm over the last three years and had made enough off it he’d never have to work again. He might not be able to use magic, but there was something about his art that drew a person to it, and made that person willing to empty out bank accounts for it.
Instead of living big, he had bought a quirky little place on southeast Thirteenth Street, not too far from pubs and coffee shops.
And he’d apparently painted it several shades of purple, blue, and yellow since I’d last been by.
I parked the car in front of the place and Eleanor drifted into the backseat of the car.
Cody was already walking down the porch and past the rosebushes. He was yellow haired, tan, muscled, quick to laugh, and, if I remembered correctly, just a little older than me. He had on several layers of shirts and jackets in browns, oranges, and blue, a dark green scarf tossed over his shoulders that should have looked messy, but somehow came across as fashionable, and was carrying a bowling ball bag.
He opened the passenger door, and ducked down as he got in. “You’ll want to head back over the river. West.”
“I need an address, I don’t need a passenger,” I said.
“You need both.” Cody slid the seat belt over his shoulder and snapped it in place. “And I want to see you.” He turned toward me. “I want to see what you’re about to do. With magic. With death.” Those blue eyes were just this side of madness, and when he smiled, I realized magic might have done more than just change him.
“Cody,” I asked before I put the car in gear, “are you sane?”
“Oh no. But then, neither are you. That’s what makes this so fun.”
I slowly removed each of my Void stone rings and dropped them into my cup holder. Then I drove west, because damn it, he was right.
Chapter 22
“That’s it?” I asked.
Cody tipped his head to better see around the slight bend in the road where I’d parked. We were in the southwest hills on a narrow one-lane that snaked up along the hillside between cliff-clinging houses with grand views of the city and Mount Hood. We were so close to downtown it seemed like I could spit and hit it, but the way the neighborhood was built to soak up the wide horizon, the city felt like a world away.
The address had led us to an immaculately landscaped spread with a multileveled house that showed some beige and cedar between the expanses of windows. Decks, probably a pool. Rich, without standing out among the other rich.
Houses on both sides had bikes tucked up against porches or doors, or a couple kid toys. Families lived here.
“That’s it,” Cody said. “Head man goes by Phillip Soto. Second is Rene Schuller. I have other names if you want them.”