“Runa Etterson?”
“Yes,” I lied.
She opened her mouth, saw Alessandro, and stopped for a befuddled second. “And who are you?”
“My personal assistant,” I said.
My personal assistant dazzled the receptionist with one of his armada-launching smiles.
The woman finally recovered. “Mr. Moody is waiting for you. You go on right ahead, it’s the second door on your right.”
We walked deeper into the office suite. The short reception area terminated in a hallway. We turned right and found the second door. It stood wide open, and we went through it.
Moody looked just like the headshot on his website: broad-shouldered, not exactly fat, but thick through the chest and middle, the way football players sometimes got thick in the offseason. He was probably strong, but he wouldn’t be fast, and if he had to chase me, he would be slow to build up speed. His desk matched him, massive and solid. The pinewood had been cut against the grain and stained with waxed tobacco to imitate a rustic Old West look. The rest of the decor in the office went along with the desk; a Texas star on the wall, a huge map of Texas, cowhide rug on the floor, the client chairs upholstered in dark leather. Good Old Texas, reliable and trustworthy. The desktop was the only modern touch.
“You’re not Runa Etterson,” Moody observed.
“Clearly, I’m not,” Alessandro said.
“Not you. Her.” Moody pointed at me.
I let him see a glimpse of my feathers. “That’s okay.” My magic surged through my words, stretching for him. “Runa is a very good friend of mine. You can tell me whatever you wanted to tell her.”
My power wrapped around him, twisting like a magical grapevine spiraling over his body. I could apply it delicately, light as gossamer. I could do it so subtly that after I was done asking my questions, Moody wouldn’t even remember the conversation. But Moody didn’t seem like a man who had a gun to his head. His posture showed no tension or nervousness, his eyes didn’t betray any apprehension. He sat behind his desk, completely at ease except for being annoyed that Runa hadn’t come herself. A man whose life depended on Runa’s presence would have panicked.
There was no need to be gentle with him. He was in this up to his eyeballs.
I sank more magic into my voice. “I’ll be sure to let Runa know everything you tell me.”
Moody smiled at me and sat up straighter in his chair. “Well, I guess that’s okay, then. Please have a seat.”
I sat down. Alessandro remained standing right behind me.
“Why did you call Runa?” I asked.
“I have these papers.”
My magic was all around him now. He was breathing it in, it seeped through his pores, and I shook my feathers at him one more time.
“Are these papers important?”
Moody’s smile widened. “Nah, they’re some bullshit I cooked up. You’re a really nice girl, you know that?”
“Thank you, Mr. Moody. Why did you cook up bullshit papers?”
“I got a call from Diatheke and they asked me to do it. I mean, it’s a small thing, and they pay me enough, by God.”
And there it was. “How long have you worked for Diatheke?”
“About four years. They called me right after Sigourney hired me. What was I supposed to do, turn down easy money?”
You greedy asshole. “And what did Diatheke require from you in return for that easy money?”
He chuckled. “Not much. I was supposed to tell them if she made sudden large deposits.”
Benedict wanted to know if Sigourney started doing jobs on her own.
“And of course, now they called me to get Runa out here.”
“What do they want with Runa?”
He shrugged. “Hell if I know. Who cares about Runa, anyway? Let’s talk about you.”
Let’s not. “Do you know who killed Sigourney?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Don’t know, don’t wanna know, don’t need to know. She must have pissed off some powerful people and it ain’t my business.”
The more we talked, the more the polish of education wore off. He sounded more Texas country with every word. I needed to wrap this up, or he would chase after me, and Alessandro would shoot him. He deserved it, but I didn’t want to murder anyone we didn’t have to kill. Besides, there were better ways to punish.
“Do you know what happened to Halle?”
“Burned up with her momma.”
“Are we done?” I asked Alessandro.
“Ask him who his contact was at Diatheke.”
“Who did you talk to at Diatheke?” I asked.
“Some lady named Jocelyn.”
“I’m done,” Alessandro said.
I yanked my magic back. Moody gasped, throwing himself back against his chair, his spine rigid, his eyes glassy.
I got up, turning around. Alessandro had this cold look in his eyes, as if Moody wasn’t a human, but some centipede that had slithered out of the drain and needed to be stepped on.
“We have to go,” I told him.
He didn’t move. “Wait for me in the front office. I’ll catch up with you.”
“Alessandro, please.”
He sighed and turned to the door. “If that’s what you want.”
The receptionist waved at us as we passed her. “Y’all drive safe now.”
We were out of the hallway and going down the stairs when I heard the scream.
Alessandro paused midway on the stairs.
“He won’t come after us,” I told him.
“I wasn’t worried. What did you do to him?”
“He’s been to Sigourney’s home. He’s met her children. She invited him to holiday parties. The entire time he was spying on her. And after she died, he tried to lure her daughter here knowing that nothing good would come from it. I can remove my magic gently or I can do it the way I did it to Moody. I’m told it feels like the love of your life has died in front of you. I wanted him to feel grief. It’s all he can feel right now, and it will take him a long time to heal.”
“So, he’s suffering?”
“Yes.”
Alessandro gave me a narrow smile. Just a hint of fangs. “I like your way better.”
We exited the stairs into the lobby hallway and kept walking. This was too easy. Why get us all the way out here and not do anything about it? Maybe once they realized that Runa hadn’t shown up, they dropped the whole thing and went to the warehouse to get her.
“We could be cutting Moody apart with a bone saw right now, and Diatheke wouldn’t give a crap, would they?”
Alessandro shook his head. “Sigourney’s dead. They have no further use for him. He’s a loose end. We didn’t cut it, but they will.”
“Who’s Jocelyn?” I asked.
“A psionic. Upper-range Significant. Experienced. Strong. Dangerous.”
We rounded the corner. A person stood in front of glass doors, blocking our escape. Tall, wrapped in a black coat, deep hood hiding his face. More a dark shadow than a human, a smudge of night in the lobby flooded with electric light.
Hello.
The hooded figure thrust its hands to the sides, palms up. The mage pose. A knot of black smoke burst into life above him and surged open, spiraling out like a blossoming flower, a deep indigo darkness shot through with blue lightning at its center.
A summoning portal.
Alessandro raised his arms, a gun in each hand, and fired.
Before the first shot rang out, the portal flared with blinding white and a swarm of flying creatures tore out of it. Bright psychotic green splashed with blotches of yellow and crimson, they swirled in front of the summoner, hiding him from view, each beast the size of a turkey vulture and shaped like a bloated tick with beetle wings and six long segmented legs. The swarm churned, chaotic, contracting and expanding like a flock of monstrous birds, the creatures zipping back and forth.