“A slight technical malfunction with the spell,” Saiman said. “My fault entirely.”
He was covering for me. Saiman dealt in information and the price of a secret was inversely related to the number of people who knew it. The fewer people possessed the information, the more valuable it became. I knew this, because Saiman had patiently explained it for my benefit.
“Sorry for the trouble, guys,” I said to say something.
“Did you at least get what you came for?” the Clerk asked.
“We got it. Thanks,” I said.
“Anytime,” Bob said grimly.
“The Guild is always willing to cooperate with the Order,” Mark said.
I waved at them and headed out into the parking lot. A woman. Dark eyes. I wished I could’ve seen her face.
A quick staccato of steps echoed behind me and Saiman caught up. “I’d be delighted if you rode with me,” he said. “The engine of my Volvo is wrapped in a layer of mass-loaded vinyl, caught between two layers of polyether foam. It’s adequate at attenuation of low-frequency noise.”
“Fascinating.” Most water cars made enough noise to do permanent damage to one’s hearing.
Saiman favored me with a narrow smile. “My vehicle is relatively quiet by enchanted engine standards. If you rode in my vehicle, you could rest.”
And he could ask me all sorts of interesting questions. I was tired, but not tired enough to risk a car ride with Saiman.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I can’t abandon my mule. Besides, I come with a passenger.”
His eyebrows came together. “A passenger?”
I whistled and the dog popped out of his hiding spot behind Marigold.
Saiman stared at my canine companion with an expression of pure horror. “What is that?”
“That’s my attack poodle.”
Saiman opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. A grimace gripped his face. A violent struggle of some sort was obviously taking place inside.
“Are you trying to find something nice to say?”
He looked at me helplessly. “I can’t. It’s an awful creature.”
“If you want me to ride with you, this awful creature has to enter your car.”
The pain on his face was priceless. “Can’t we just—”
“I’m afraid we can’t.”
The attack poodle trotted around me and proceeded to vomit an inch from my left boot.
“Delightful,” Saiman reflected as the dog, having puked his guts out, urinated on the nearest wall.
“He’s a dog of simple pleasures,” I told him.
Saiman leaned back, stared at the sky, exhaled, and said, “Very well. Your taste in dogs is as appalling as your taste in wine. It’s a wonder you didn’t name it Boone.”
It had been a long time since I had tasted Boone’s Farm. Drinking was no longer my preferred entertainment. “It’s a he. Please don’t insult my faithful canine companion.”
Saiman turned and strode to his sleek, bullet-shaped vehicle, disfigured by the bloated front end containing the enchanted water engine.
I petted the poodle. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you bite him if he gets out of line.”
The dog wagged his tail. Either Saiman smelled tasty, or my poodle had good instincts.
I mounted, swaying a bit, and nudged Marigold into action. Even if I did fall along the way, I’d likely land in a snowdrift. Any landing you could walk away from was a good landing.
CHAPTER 13
THE MAGIC WAVE KEPT GOING. MY APARTMENT would give any meat freezer a run for its money. I couldn’t avoid the woodstove forever.
I’d been thinking about the female Steel Mary the entire time I rode to my apartment and was getting nowhere. A woman’s voice came out of the undead water mage’s mouth but I couldn’t recall it well enough to compare it to the Steel Mary’s. So either there were two women working together, or there was only one woman, six and a half feet tall, expert with a spear, with the ability to pilot the undead, use power words, and create pandemics.
Nothing I’d read even remotely fit that scenario. I’d have to rely on Saiman’s ability to read the parchment.
I pulled my shoes off and trudged into the kitchen. The red light on my answering machine was blinking.
I pushed the button.
“Got your note,” Christy’s voice said. “Someone ripped out the lock on your screen and pinned the paper to your front door with a nail. It’s rain-stained, but I think it says, ‘I’m here, you’re not. Call me.’ ”
He did come to see me with broken bones. A day too late and a dollar short.
The second message was from Andrea.
“Hey. It’s me. Raphael says that Curran’s been a real bastard since about mid-November. He’s in a bad mood, he’s snarling at everything and everyone, and he stopped hearing petitions. The big items that have to be done get done, but no new projects have been approved. Raphael’s been trying to get financing from the Pack to buy out a competing business. He says the last time he brought it up, Curran almost bit his head off. He apparently stalks the Keep halls at night, looking for someone to chew out.”
“He needs to get laid!” Raphael’s voice called out from a distance.
“Shush. Raphael’s mad because he can’t get his thingie approved.”
“My thingie would make us money,” Raphael yelled. “Not getting it approved is costing us money we could be making.”
“Anyway,” Andrea said, “I thought you ought to know.”
The message ended.
The answering machine was still blinking. There was another message and I had a pretty good idea who it was from.
For a while I sat in the kitchen and petted the attack poodle, deciding whether I should listen to the message or just erase it. Finally I pushed the button and Curran’s voice filled the room.
“You can run, but it won’t matter. I will find you and we will talk. I’ve never asked or expected you to deal with me on shapeshifter terms, but this is juvenile even by human standards. You owe me an answer. Here, I’ll make it easy for you. If you want me, meet me and I’ll explain my side of what happened. Or you can run away from me the way you always do, and this time I won’t chase you. Decide.”
“You’ve lost your mind,” I told the answering machine.
I played the message a couple of times more, listening to his voice. He’d had his chance and blown it. I’d paid for it. It would be stupid to risk this kind of pain again. Plain stupid.
I slumped in my chair. The rock in my chest cracked into sharp pieces. Thinking about letting him go hurt. But then he wasn’t mine to let go in the first place.
My father taught me many things. Guard yourself. Never become attached. Never take a chance. Never take a risk if you don’t have to. And more often than not, he proved right. Taking stupid risks only landed you into hotter water.
But if I let Curran go without a fight, I would regret it for the rest of my life. I would rather drag a dozen rocks in my chest and know that he wasn’t my chance at happiness, than walk away and never be sure. And that’s all he wanted—to be sure. We both deserved to know.
As much as it pained me to admit it, Curran was right. I never made allowances for him being a shapeshifter. I always expected him to deal with me as a human. He didn’t think I could meet him on his home turf and play by his rules.
Big mistake, Your Majesty. You want me to act like a shapeshifter? Fine, I can do that. I pulled up the phone and dialed a number from memory.
“Yes?” Jim answered.
“I was told that shapeshifters declare their romantic interest by breaking into each other’s territory and rearranging things.”
There was a slight pause. “That’s correct.”
“Does the cat clan use this ritual?”
“Yes. Where are you going with this?”
When on shaky ground in negotiations, shovel on some guilt. “Do you remember when I stood by you during the Midnight Games, even though you were wrong and your people attacked me?”
He growled quietly. “Yes.”
“I need access to Curran’s private gym for fifteen minutes.”