Huh. Maybe the redheaded assassin was government issue. Still didn’t explain why she hadn’t shot us.
“We believe governments are screening magic users and setting up protocol to search for Soul Complements.”
“For real?” I asked. “Why do they give a damn?”
Shut-up glares zinged my way from all corners.
I didn’t care. Life was a lot more fun now that magic couldn’t do the bigger “shut up, Shame” spells I’d been dealt in the past.
The Overseer didn’t seem overly bothered by the question. “We believe, Mr. Flynn, that they intend to use Soul Complements to break magic and use magic either as a resource, or a weapon. They are certainly more interested in finding Soul Complements than makes me comfortable.”
“Right, sure,” I said. “Who wouldn’t want to get their hands on the only people who can use magic to kill, destroy, and yada-yada ultimate destruction. What do you think we can do about it? Go on strike? Sign a petition?”
I wasn’t going to lie. I had a bad feeling of exactly what he wanted us to do about it. Probably something heroic like band together and take down the government forces that wanted to use magic for less than savory reasons.
And while some people, like Zay and Allie and Terric, would probably line up like good little soldiers and do just what was expected of them, I wasn’t good at doing what I was told.
Ever.
“That is why I am here,” he intoned. Yes, intoned.
“We believe you are each in grave danger and may, even now, be targeted. Our intelligence suggests government forces want you alive. But we cannot be one hundred percent sure of that.
“This meeting is both a warning and an offer of assistance. If you want to go into hiding, we in the Authority can make that happen. If you want security guards, we can provide that too. But it is of the highest importance you understand you are in terrible danger before you make the decision of how you want to go forward.”
I wondered how the other Soul Comps were taking the news of their sudden popularity.
They looked startled. Even old Doug and Nancy had gone a whiter shade of white. I’d say they were going to run. All of them. They were going to hide.
Good on them.
Then I glanced at Allie and Zay. They were staring straight ahead at Moretti with that odd blank look Zay had once told me meant they were speaking to each other silently.
Creeped me the hell out that they could do it, but I had to admit it would be useful.
They were also holding hands, fingers slipped one between the next, pale, dark, pale. I didn’t expect them to run. Hide? Maybe.
No way the old Zavyion would have run, but now that Allie was in his life, he was all about safer decisions. Being responsible.
And boring.
Allie, though . . . there was something about her. She had that tough-as-nails but fragile-as-glass thing going on. I’d seen her handle some really crappy situations, most of them while her life was on the line.
So death threats weren’t anything she hadn’t heard before. She knew how to deal with death. Dying did not scare that chick. She’d done it too damn many times.
But this threat shook her. Her hand in Zay’s was so tight I could see the bone of her knuckles. And her other hand was flat across her stomach as if just thinking about someone out to kill her and Zay made her sick.
It was . . . weird.
I frowned, caught Zay’s eyes. He gave me a blank stare.
No, that wouldn’t do at all.
I slid my gaze to Allie’s hand over her stomach, then right back at him.
Well, mate? What’s that all about?
Gold flashed in his eyes like paint hitting ink. Not a speck of brown left, only violent anger.
Holy shit. Z didn’t like me pointing this out to him. I wondered what the hell I was pointing out to him.
I gave him a sly I-know-what’s-going-on-here smile, even though I had no clue what had made him so angry.
He tipped his head down just enough to tell me, he knew I knew, and he’d talk to me about it later.
Good. It was going to be all kinds of fun to find out what he didn’t want me to know.
He lifted a finger and pointed at the stage.
Right, there were important people talking about important things.
I’d heard the only thing that really mattered—someone wanted me dead.
Big deal. The line started on the left.
Up onstage, Terric was wide-eyed and still, like a deer caught in rifle sights who’d just heard a stick snap. He was frozen, staring at me. I wasn’t sure if he was breathing.
Fuck. Of all the time for him to lose his composure.
I started toward the stage. No need for everyone to be staring at him like that.
“I am sorry, Mr. Flynn,” the Overseer was saying.
Hold on. I must have missed something.
“About what?” I asked, still moving toward Terric.
“About relieving you and Terric Conley of your position as Head of the Authority here in Portland.”
Chapter 4
“What?” I stopped, twisted on my heel so I could face the guy. I was still on the floor and he was up on the slightly raised stage. “You’re firing me?”
“I am ending your position and will be reassigning a new Head of the Authority to speak for the magic users in Portland.”
My brain was running a beat behind my mouth. “Don’t bother. It should be Terric. He should be the Head of the Authority,” I said. “Just because I fuck up doesn’t mean he has to take the fall.”
“Mr. Flynn.” He somehow made my name sound like a venereal disease. “I have made my decision. You are both relieved of your duties as of today. I expect each of you to turn over your files and offices, clean out your desks, and assist in the transfer of duties to the new Head of the Authority.”
I was almost at the stage now. My brain had finally caught up with my mouth and run into anger on the way.
“Who’s that unlucky bastard?”
“If you shut your mouth,” he snapped, “I will announce his name.”
Bet if he could use magic like the old days I would have just earned myself a three-month crotch rash.
“Shame.” Terric waved his hand and pointed for me to come stand beside him.
Oh, God no. If Terric had his wits back, then I was not needed up there. I hated smiling and making nice. Especially in front of a crowd.
The Overseer stowed his sneer beneath his mustache and addressed the room. “It is my great pleasure to announce to you the new Head of the Authority in Portland: Clyde Turner. Mr. Turner, please come up to the microphone.”
Now I didn’t have to make nice. I happened to like Clyde, poor sod.
Clyde was a regular kind of guy who looked like he belonged in a beer commercial. Didn’t get in anyone’s business and made it clear that people could stay out of his. He was currently the Voice, or representative, of Blood magic here in town—a position my mum had abandoned after the world almost ended.
The crowd got it right this time and clapped while he walked from the side of the room to the stage. He was wearing the same combination that he always wore: baseball cap on backward, flannel shirt over a team jersey—Giants. He shook hands with the Overseer, then stuck his fingers in his jean pockets while he leaned forward toward the microphone.
“Thank you for your applause. But I’d like us all to take a moment to show some appreciation for Terric Conley and all the hard work he’s done for this city over the last three years.”
Terric smiled and did the hand wave thing again to get me up on the stage. I really didn’t think he’d want me up there stealing his sunshine, but hey, who am I to argue?