“Chase?” Greyson said.
“Go.”
I heard the sound of four feet running, watched as Greyson headed toward the opening in the wall.
She had let him go. She had let my dad’s murderer free.
But just as Greyson reached the opening, a figure stepped through it. Zayvion, with a two-by-four over his shoulder. He swung at Greyson like a batter aiming for the far wall, and connected with his head.
Greyson flew out of my line of vision. Zayvion adjusted his hold on the board and drew a glyph in the air with his left hand. He threw the spell at Greyson. I didn’t hear any other movement from that part of the room.
“Looks like this worked out to our advantage after all,” Zayvion said. “Do you want to explain this to me, Chase?” He left my vision, weaving another spell, walking toward where Greyson fell.
For a second I thought Chase had left to be beside Greyson too. But she squatted down next to me, her boot inches from my face.
She tugged my chin to one side so I could see her cold, cold face. “You have screwed with the wrong woman, Beckstrom,” she whispered. She pressed her fingertip into the center of my forehead.
And then everything went black.
Chapter Fifteen
It didn’t take me long to decide my dreams sucked. I dreamed Zayvion and Chase were yelling at each other, angry about me, about Greyson, about Tomi. I was a little fuzzy on the details, but it sounded like Chase wanted to Close me or maybe kill me, and Zayvion was having none of it.
My hero.
A third voice spoke up. Shamus. Told them to shut the hell up. Told Chase to take care of Tomi. Told Zayvion to figure out how to move the rock. Told them he would handle Greyson. There were a lot of moving-around sounds. Some silence, during which I drifted. Then more noise.
They were talking about Tomi. About the glyphs cut into her to bind her with Blood and Death magic. Talked about whether Greyson had done this to her, or if someone was working with him. Greyson had been a Closer before he’d been changed. And they could tell he had closed Tomi’s mind over and over to keep her from knowing what she was doing, how she was being used.
None of them seemed to know why he picked her, of all people, though they did begin to question why she had mentioned Jingo Jingo, and whether he or someone else in the Authority was part of this.
I heard Chase say she’d take Tomi to someone, see if her mind could be mended, her body healed.
Then someone dragged fingers across my forehead. It was nice, warm. Plus, I was awake again.
Shamus sat crossed-legged next to me. He gave me a small smile.
“Trouble.”
I swallowed to say something, but could not find my voice.
“We’re going to take care of Tomi. Get her some help, then take her home to heal if that’s the best way to go. She won’t remember any of this.
“Greyson is a bit of a problem.”
I raised my eyebrows-because that was as much sarcasm as I could manage.
“We’re taking him in. Have ways we can make sure he doesn’t wake up for a while. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get into his head and find out who he’s working with. Find out who did that. .” He swallowed, shook his head. “Did this to him. Don’t know that there’s a cure, but if there is, we’ll find it. Fix him.” He took a deep breath. I didn’t think he’d been saying most of that stuff for me.
He patted his pocket, found his cigarettes, and lit up. He inhaled and pulled the cigarette away.
“But the gargoyle? Damn, girl. I’d love to know how you did that. The only Animation I’ve ever seen done that well was on a much, much smaller scale. It’s sentient, or at least free-willed, isn’t it?”
Since I couldn’t talk, I just stared at him.
“Right. Sorry. We’re taking it along with us. With you. Next time you wake up, you’ll be at my mum’s, okay?”
Somewhere behind me, I could hear Zayvion take a breath, hold it, then begin singing softly, casting a spell.
Shamus glanced up, away from me, toward where I thought Zayvion must be. He shook his head. “Beauty.”
Then he looked back down at me. “Hell of a day, love. Not bad for your first day in the field. Took care of all the Hungers, in case you wanted to know. Now get some sleep. You’ll need it.”
He brushed his fingers over my forehead again, and, really, I did the only thing I could. I slept.
Chapter Sixteen
“Come on, now. Wake for me,Allison Beckstrom.” I didn’t recognize the voice. Deep, male, almost a purr. I could not resist it. Influence, most likely.
I opened my eyes. I was lying in a soft bed, not my own, in a clean room that smelled like honeysuckle. I’d never seen this room before. Maybe a hotel?
I had, however, seen the man who sat in the chair next to the bed. He had been at my father’s funeral.
Big didn’t begin to describe him. He was the kind of guy who needed all three seats on an airplane. His eyes and skin were almost the same color, coffee dark, and there was a gentleness to his expression that was at odds with the intensity of his gaze. He might look like a nice guy on the outside, but he creeped me out. I inhaled and caught the sweet scent of licorice and something more chemical that tasted like death.
“My name is Jingo Jingo.” He smiled, and fear rubbed fingers across my stomach. At the sound of his name, an image of candy in his pocket and little bones came to me. What was it my father had whispered to me at the funeral? He had a thing for the bones of little children?
“I am a teacher here,” he said. “I understand you know my student, Shamus Flynn.”
I did. And I also knew Shamus didn’t like him. Shamus said he was a freak.
Shamus was a very smart boy.
Plus, Davy had said Tomi was messed up with Jingo. None of this inspired my trust in the man.
“Yes,” I finally said.
“And I understand you’ve been hearing your father. Ever since that unfortunate happening in the warehouse.”
It took me a second to place which unfortunate happening in which warehouse he was talking about. Probably the one after Pike had died, after I’d killed Lon Trager, when Frank Gordon had dug up my dad and tried to use him to open the gates to death.
Unfortunate, indeed.
“Have you?” he asked.
What were we talking about? I was tired, muzzy-headed. What the hell had Chase done to me?
We were talking about my dead dad in my head. Right. Even though I didn’t like this man, didn’t trust this man, he was a teacher in the Authority, and innocent before being found guilty and all that. Even Maeve had told me she wanted him to look in my head and see if my father was really still there.
And after everything Greyson had done to my father, now would be the best time to find out if my dad was still alive, still in my head.
“I’ve heard him, yes,” I said. Could I sound any more like an idiot?
“I’m going to look into your mind, Ms. Beckstrom. To see how much of your father is still with you. Do I have your permission to do so?”
“Do you have to have it?” Well, that was a stupid thing to ask.
“It does make this a more. . pleasant experience.”
“Okay.” I hated that someone I did not know, someone I did not trust, was going to get inside me, feel around.
Sure, I tried to think of Jingo Jingo the same way I thought about having a new doctor. He was an expert. He had my best interests in mind.
I wasn’t buying it.
“Just relax.” He shifted so he could rest his hand on my right wrist, the arm where magic had left its indelible mark.
His fingers were soft. Warm.
Just like Maeve, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, copper fire glinted in their brown depths.