Текст книги "Fury of the Demon"
Автор книги: Diana Rowland
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Chapter 28
Mzatal was still deeply involved on the mini-nexus when we returned home, and I decided to have Eilahn tell him about my encounter with Farouche while I summoned Steeev.
Paul and Bryce weren’t in the common areas when I returned to the house. I scrawled “do not disturb” on a sticky note and slapped it on the basement door, then poured a big glass of tunjen and headed down. It felt both weird and good to perform a summoning in the middle of the day with utter confidence. A year ago—hell, a few months ago—I would’ve balked at the mere idea due to the lack of lunar influence and the extra difficulty that posed. Training with Mzatal had stripped all that nonsense away, and I’d learned how to adapt and compensate for different summoning conditions.
I set the tunjen aside and got to work. The storage diagram was nicely topped off, and it took only about fifteen minutes to change the existing ritual diagram to the parameters for a syraza. I checked and rechecked the sigils, bindings, and power flows, tapped the storage diagram, and began.
I spoke the name “Steeev” as the invocation to call the syraza, confident and calm. I knew I had a successful summoning. It felt right.Only once did I encounter a shift in the currents of power as I formed the portal, but I smoothly adjusted the anchors and dealt with the shift with no further issues, and silently thanked the hundreds of hours of practice Mzatal had insisted I do.
The syraza arrived with a jolting pull in the potency flows. I grounded and anchored the power, then looked up to see him, kneeling and breathing hard, in the center of the diagram.
“Steeev,” I said, “I apologize for summoning you without warning.”
He lifted his head. “Is . . .” He paused as though testing his ability to speak. “Is there a problem with the qaztahl?”
“No!” I said quickly. “No, Mzatal is well.” Of course that would be his first assumption, especially since, according to Zack, Steeev had never been summoned before. “I need a favor from you,” I continued, “but I want to discuss it with you first since it’s a big one. Would you like tunjen?”
Steeev blinked several times, still trying to get his bearings. “Tunjen. Yes.” He attempted to rise then apparently thought better of it. “What favor, Kara Gillian?” he asked as he sank back into a kneel-sit. “When my body moves where my mind wills, perhaps I will be able to accommodate.” He chimed in laughter. “Unless I am forever in the swirling state.”
I retrieved the glass of tunjen I’d brought downstairs and pressed it into his hand. “It fades, I promise,” I assured him with a smile, then crouched before him. “Here’s the favor. I need protection for a dear friend of mine. She’s Zakaar’s lover too, and carries his child.”
Steeev drained the cup then looked at me, head angled slightly to one side. “Jill Faciane. Zakaar does not protect her?”
“He does as much as he can, but he also has a duty to Szerain.” I took a few minutes to explain our current situation, including the body dump and the threat to Jill. “I’d rather she be overprotected than have something happen to her.”
Steeev stretched his wings wide, then folded them and stood. “Mzatal has agreed to this?” He put on a syraza version of a scowl, tucked his hands behind his back and lifted his chin in a surprisingly excellent mimicry of Mzatal. “Or does he protest?”
I laughed. “He has agreed to this.”
The syraza let his Mzatal impression go, chimed softly. “For what span of time?” He took a deep breath, then stiffened and curled his lips back. “What is that smell?”
I let out a cough of laughter at his reaction. “The span of time would be at least until the baby is born. A month or two,” I said. “The unpleasant smell is likely hydrocarbons, and the savory smell is gumbo. Crawfish gumbo. It’s pretty good.”
“It has been long since I have seen a human babe.” He bared his teeth in a syraza smile, chiming with amusement. “Noisy and smelly and ear-pulling.”
“They do grow out of that—most of the time.” My amusement faded. Now came the tricky part. “Here’s the deal,” I said, all seriousness now. “I haven’t yet talked to Jill about you, or about having a guardian at all. First, because I know her, and if I asked before she met you, it’d be too easy for her to say No.” I paused, inclined my head to him. “And second, I didn’t want to bring it up with her until I knew your decision.”
“The decision cannot be made without her agreement,” he stated. “That said, I am not opposed and, in not being opposed, am indeed willing—if she is willing—to accept guardianship.” He tilted his head, peered at me. “On the condition that she is at least marginally pleasant.”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” I said, relieved. I gestured grandly to the raggedy basement stairs. “Come upstairs and see my demesne.”
“Lead on, Kara Gillian,” he announced with a teeth-baring smile. “I will wobble and teeter along behind.”
“You can lean on me if you wish,” I offered.
He gave a snort-chime. “The great guardian arrives, leaning heavily upon the summoner. It does not serve. No, no. Not at all.”
“Then you’d best stop your whining,” I advised with a grin as I led the way.
Steeev followed, chime-muttering. Once upstairs, I gave him a quick rundown of the layout of the house and property. “Jill likes her privacy, so she’s staying in a mobile home at the side of the house,” I explained as we entered the kitchen.
Bryce was at the table—papers and notes in front of him that I figured were probably stuff for his surveillance camera proposal. He glanced up as we entered, blinked in surprise at the sight of a syraza.
Steeev chimed. “Fair greetings, Bryyyce.”
Bryce’s expression cleared, and he chuckled. “Steeev. You’re the only one who drawls my name out like that. Good to see you again.”
“Steeev will be sticking around for a while as Jill’s guardian,” I told Bryce. “That is, if we can get it through her stubborn head that she needs one.”
Bryce looked from me to Steeev then back to me. “I get it. Like Eilahn.” He nodded. “Jill needs that, especially now.”
“We’re about to let her know she’s always wanted one,” I said, then continued out to the back porch.
I caught a streak of blue near the woods out of the corner of my eye, accompanied by a shrill chirrup-whistle. Jekki. Beside me, Steeev returned the greeting with a melodic trumpeting, and an instant later I heard a piercing whoop that I recognized as Eilahn’s. Good thing I didn’t have any close neighbors. They’d be wondering about the weird wildlife.
I glanced back at Steeev as I stepped off the porch and started toward Jill’s place. “Okay, here’s the plan. You’re going to be so charming, she can’t refuse.”
He bared his teeth. “I thought you said this would be a challenge.”
I laughed. “Forgive me. I forgot who I was dealing with.”
We crossed the grass and climbed the steps to the redwood deck. Zack had moved damn quickly to make the place as nice as possible. “Yo, chick!” I called out as I knocked on the door. “Got someone here I want you to meet.”
A few seconds later Jill opened the door. “Who?” she asked, then her eyes widened as she looked past me. “Oh. That’s who.”
I stepped aside to give her a better view. “Jill, this is Steeev. He’s a syraza, like Eilahn.” I turned my attention to the demon. “Steeev, I would like you to meet my very dear friend, Jill.”
Jill stepped out onto the deck. “Nice to meet you, Steve,” she said with a polite smile paired with a questioning look in her eyes.
“It’s Steeev,” I corrected.
She gave me a slightly perplexed look. “Right, Steve.”
I shook my head, thoroughly enjoying this. “No, y’gotta draw it out more. Steeev.”
Jill’s mouth thinned into a flat line as she swept a gaze over Steeev, then narrowed her eyes at me. “Is this some kind of insider summoner joke?”
“Nope,” I said with a laugh. “But it is fun. His name is Steeev. There’s a bit of an extra ‘e’ sound in there.”
It was obvious she still didn’t completely believe me. She regarded Steeev as he stood by the top of the steps, radiating as much innocence as a demon could. “Is this true?” she asked. “You’re a demon named Steeev?” The dubious look on her face told me she was ready to receive the punch line.
Steeev bared his teeth in a syraza smile and took a step closer. “Unless my name has been changed in the space of the last few heartbeats, I am indeed a demon—a syraza—by the name of Steeev.”
“I’ll be damned,” she said, then offered him a wry smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Steeeeeeev.”
I burst out laughing. “Okay, babe. That’s a bit of overkill on the eeeeeeee.”
She joined me in the laughter. “Make up your mind!”
And with that the two of us descended into ridiculous and hysterical laughter, no doubt fueled by the stress and weirdness and everything else going on. It took a few minutes for us to regain something akin to composure, not helped at all by the fact that whenever one of us started to find some control the other one would make a silly eeeeeeesound and we’d go off again—all while Steeev looked on in bemused tolerance. Or maybe he was trying to come up with some way to sneak back to the demon realm. Anything was possible.
When we finally got our breath back, I cleared my throat. “Jill, I summoned Steeev for a reason. It has to do with you, and I really hope you’ll agree to it.”
Realization immediately dawned in her eyes. My Jill wasn’t a dumb chick by a long shot. But even as she opened her mouth to protest, Steeev stepped forward.
“She will,” he said to me, then brought his gaze to Jill. “You will, will you not? Your Kara Gillian friend believes you need protection.” He tilted his head. “Do you need protection? You seem quite capable to me, so I am certain I would need to do little more than watch, and most assuredly would not be a nuisance.” He shook his head. “Not muchof a nuisance.”
He paused barely long enough for Jill to begin a response, then folded down onto one knee and took her hand between his. I watched in amusement and more than a little awe as he blinked up at her in the hitherto unheard of syraza equivalent of puppy dog eyes. “Jill Faciane, only you can prevent my return to the demon realm, utterly rejected, steeped in shame.”
Jill gaped at him, but it took her only a second to pick up the humor. She fought to hold back a laugh, with only partial success. “I am seriously having the weirdest day ever,” she muttered.
“As am I,” Steeev said, still kneeling before her. “I was very inoffensively trouncing Safar in a game of kessa, and whoosh! Dragged to Earth.”
“Dragged to Earth to be my bodyguard?” She turned an accusing glare on me.
I twisted the toe of my shoe on the deck and whistled innocently. “Only if you agree to it.”
Steeev gazed up at her. “You do, do you not?”
A scowly-disgruntled expression began to form on her face, but then it shifted to a wince. She laid a hand on her belly, sighed. “Ah, jeez, bean.”
I masked a smile. The bean wanted Steeev around. Yay, bean!
Jill narrowed her eyes at Steeev. “Please tell me you can do the changing-to-look-human thing like Eilahn and Zack.”
His features scrunched. “It is possible, yes. Perhaps. I have not done so before, but I do not shy from a challenge.”
Jill rolled her eyes, then gave a dramatic slump of defeat. “Okay, fine.If you can get human-looking, then I won’t send you back an utter disgrace.”
I silently sang the hallelujah chorus.
Steeev stood, her hand still clasped flat between his as he gazed down into her face. “Jill Faciane, this is not to be done under duress,” he said, all joking gone from his voice and manner. “It is wholly your choice and my choice. I offer my service in my willingness to work with you. If you choose not to accept, then I depart with no ill will. This is between us now. It has nothing to do with what others want.”
Jill stared up at him with a stunned look on her face as the sincerity of Steeev’s proposal permeated the air around us. She took a shaky breath. “I’ve . . . suddenly realized I don’t like being on edge all the time. So, yes, Steeev. I’d like it very much if you would stay and, um, be my bodyguard.”
“Guardian,” he gently corrected, then leaned down and touched his forehead to hers. “And so it is. I have Mzatal’s support and will forge the tie that binds me here and to you. It may feel bizarre, but no harm will come of it.”
She inhaled sharply, eyes widening in shock, but a few seconds later she relaxed into unfocused peace. Eilahn had connected to me like this, I remembered, though she’d told me that no words could have prepared me. Then again, Steeev’s words seemed to have worked pretty well.
The pair remained still, forehead to forehead for several minutes, while I sat on the steps and amused myself by looking at clouds. Finally the palpable intensity faded to nothing. Steeev straightened, exhaled. “I am delighted thatpart is complete,” he said with a baring of his teeth, his laughter like a cascade of bird song.
Jill swayed a bit and gave a weak laugh. “Oh my god. That was . . .” She trailed off, apparently deciding that words were inadequate or unnecessary. “What now, Steeev the Guardian Demon?”
“You require that I take on the form of a human, and so I shall,” he replied.
“Do you need privacy?” she asked tentatively.
Steeev chimed softly. “No, I require assistance.”
Jill shot me a baffled look heavily flavored with desperation, then fixed her gaze on Steeev. “What kind of assistance?”
“Mzatal already offers direct potency which will ease the transformation greatly,” he explained. “However, I also require guidance from you.”
“Wait,” Jill said, “you want me to pick what you’ll look like?”
He shifted his shoulders and wings in a shrug. “Not precisely. I will not choose a particular form as much as create a composite from what you bring forth. Guidance.”
“Jeez, the pressure.”
Steeev chimed in laughter. “As I have never adopted a human form, I would prefer to do it with your guidance so that I may not omit anything vital,” he said. “It will be an adventure, Jill Faciane!”
Jill rolled her eyes and grinned. “Okay, bring it. We can’t risk having you run around here without all your bits and pieces.”
He guided her to sit on the top step. “As I have not done this before, I know only what I have heard from others.” He knelt on the step below her feet. I cleared my throat to get his attention.
“Steeev, transforming leaves Eilahn pretty shaky. You might want to go down to the bottom of the steps.” I gave him a grin. “I’d hate for you to fall and mess up your new body.”
He inclined his head to me and moved to kneel on the grass. “Thank you, Kara Gillian,” he said, then looked up at Jill. “Now, call forth a vision of your ideal guardian so that I can feel it.”
I stifled my laughter as I watched Jill’s face contort in concentration, no doubt desperately trying notto think of Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard. A moment later she sucked in a gasp as Steeev began to shimmer and slowly change. As with Eilahn, it was nothing like the smooth CGI-worthy morph the demahnk Helori had demonstrated in the demon realm, but more as if reality flickered in and out. I watched, curiosity tickling. Zack was demahnk, yet his shift hadn’t been at all like Helori’s. Maybe it had to do with Zack being on Earth?
The flickering faded. A naked man knelt at the base of the steps, eyes squeezed shut and breath coming shakily. Steeev. Jill still had an unfocused look about her, so I ducked quickly inside, found a towel, and returned outside as Jill began to come out of her fog.
Jill blinked, then grabbed the edge of the step with both hands as if to keep from toppling over. “Whoa. That was . . . I don’t know what that was.” She let out a breathless laugh, then focused on Steeev. “Whoa. You look really good.”
“I have all my bits and pieces?” he asked, eyes still closed. His human voice was light, pleasant, and smooth.
She snorted. “Uh, yeah.”
I descended the steps, wrapped the towel around Steeev’s waist. “I’ll find some clothing for you.”
He opened his eyes. Nice golden-brown eyes set in an amiable, dark-skinned face. “I do notrecall agreeing to clothing,” he said, his smile displaying even, white—but not too white—teeth.
“You’d definitely distract any attackers,” I said with a laugh. I returned to Jill, sat and wrapped my arm around her. “You okay, chick?”
She smiled. “Yeah. The bean’s going crazy, and I’m dizzy, but that’s it.” Her smile grew into a grin. “Holy shit! I have a demon guardian named Steeeeeeeeeeev.”
Chapter 29
As I returned to the house, I allowed myself a moment to bask in the success of the Jill and Steeev venture. Yet at the same time I knew how incredibly fucking lucky we’d all been. Farouche obviously didn’t know how much Jill meant to me. He likely thought her a close friend at the most. I knew damn well that if he’d known how much I loved that stubborn woman he wouldn’t have settled for a simple dump of a dead body on her lawn. His people would have grabbed her at the first opportunity to use as leverage to get Paul and Bryce back.
Mzatal was still on the mini-nexus, and as I passed I felthow much stronger the flows were than the previous day, coiled with potential energy like a compressed spring.
An exultant shout from the direction of the obstacle course drew my attention. I heard another shout, then the sound of Bryce cursing along with a musical peal of laughter. A few seconds later Bryce and Eilahn burst from the woods pelting neck and neck toward the house. At least I assumed it was Bryce. It was hard to be sure since he’d apparently done a face-first, full-body plant into mud somewhere along the course.
However, he didn’t let what looked like an extra ten pounds of mud slow him down, and even though I knew damn well Eilahn could outrun any Olympian, and was certainly sandbagging a bit for his benefit, Bryce still managed a final kick to finish neck and neck with her.
Eilahn grinned widely as Bryce flopped to the ground. “You fight dirty,” he managed, then let out a wheezing chuckle. “I love it.”
“I should have warned you about her,” I said as I approached them. “No such thing as a fair fight in her book.”
Eilahn bared her teeth. “A fair fight is the one you survive.”
“I’m with you, sister,” Bryce said as he pushed up to sit. He swiped a hand over his face and flicked mud away. “Though I admit I didn’t see eye to eye with you when you hooked my leg and shoved me into the mud.”
“I wished to be certain of my victory,” she stated.
“And stepped on my back.”
“Very certain.”
“You were already winning!” Bryce said in exasperation. “You stopped, waited for me to jump the log, and thentripped me.”
Eilahn tilted her head. “I wished to be very certain of my victory. And it wasmost amusing.”
Bryce lobbed a chunk of mud at her which she nimbly dodged. With a parting musical laugh she loped off into the woods.
I cocked an eyebrow at Bryce and smiled. “Do you want the hose?”
“I think that’ll be a good start,” he replied with a laugh.
He levered himself to his feet while I fetched the hose and turned the water on for him.
“I’ll let you sluice yourself off,” I said, handing him the hose. “But I’d like to pick your brain once you have the worst of the mud off.”
“I’m all yours,” he said with a smile as he began to rinse.
“I need to get something from the living room, and then I’ll meet you on the back porch.”
He nodded and held the hose over his head. Smiling, I headed inside. It took me a few minutes to find the journal I needed in the stack on the coffee table, and by the time I returned to the back porch Bryce had not only finished rinsing off but had even found a battered towel to dry himself. He’d also exchanged his wet and muddy clothing for battered-but-clean t-shirt and shorts, and his drying shoes sat in the sun on the steps.
“Ready for my brain picking,” he said.
“I’ll try and make it painless,” I replied and sat in one of the rocking chairs, gestured for him to do so as well. “This is one of Tracy Gordon’s journals—the one that has your name in it along with several others.” I passed it over to him. “Do you know any of these other names?”
He read through the list, all humor fleeing from his expression. “Shit.”
My gaze locked onto him. Finally, something. “You doknow them? How?”
“I know about half of them.” He looked up at me, perplexed. “What the hell?”
“Anything unusual about them? Any common link you can think of?”
“The ones I recognize work—or have worked—for StarFire or other companies Mr. Farouche owns.” He frowned in thought as he drew a finger down the list. “But they do all sorts of things. I mean, they’re not all—” Pain flashed briefly over his face before he could control it. “They’re not all like me. Hanson is an accountant. Stevens is Mr. Farouche’s in-house financial advisor. Sonny—he’s listed here as Jesus Ramirez—is kind of like me. Aberdeen is the surveillance specialist for StarFire. And Henrietta—” He shrugged in bafflement. “Hennie is a damn cook.”
I slumped in the chair. Great, so at least half of the people on the list worked for Farouche, but we still had zilcho idea why they were in Tracy’s journal. “Any link apart from working for Farouche you can think of?”
Bryce considered for almost half a minute, then gave a shrug. “Nothing I can come up with.”
“Did you all come on board at the same time?” I asked, frustration rising. “Are you all from the same area? Are you all allergic to Ethiopian peanuts?” I threw up my hands in desperation. “There has to be something.”
“I’m sorry. I’m trying here.” He shook his head, grimaced. “We weren’t all hired at the same time. Hennie’s been around longest. Otherwise it’s spread out over a few years. Nothing in the past eight years though.” He scrutinized the list again. “I think the theory of being from the same area is out. Hennie’s from Vegas, and Sonny’s from California. Not sure on the rest.”
I blew out a sigh of disappointment. “Thanks anyway. I’ll check with Paul to see if he can run the names. Maybe something will pop as a connection.” I closed the journal and stood.
“Wait!” Bryce said. “Shit. I just realized—there isa connection.”
I spun to face him. “There is? What?”
“There was this one time we all went down—passed out or got really sick and dizzy—all at the same time. Several at the compound, including Mr. Farouche and Paul and me. It didn’t hit everyone, but every person I know on that list was somehow affected.”
My skin tingled. This was it. “Tell me what happened.”
“It was sudden, struck us all at once,” he said, face intense with the memory. “Some people had a bit of nausea, headache, vertigo, that sort of thing. Others collapsed completely. Lasted about ten minutes. Seriously weird.”
I felt my pulse quicken. “When was this? Date? Time?”
“No clue on the exact date. It was in November, late afternoon.” He paused in thought, then gave a firm nod. “It was a Wednesday, because Wednesday was always sushi day for Paul, and we’d decided to go eat dinner at Auntie Mimi’s Super Sashimi.”
Hot damn. “I know what the link is to the people collapsing,” I said with barely contained glee. “That’s the same date and time an attempted gate to the demon realm got fucked up and nearly collapsed.” I gave him a tight and triumphant smile. “It happened in that warehouse where you got shot, where you and Paul went chasing a wiggle.”
He nodded, but his brow creased. “Why would a collapsing gate affect some people and not others?”
“That’s what we have to find out,” I told him. Could it be summoning ability? No, I decided. There was no way there were that many summoners or people with arcane aptitude running around. I frowned. Farouche and the essence-eating murderer I’d tracked down the year before were non-summoner humans with arcane abilities. But what if it isn’t something so blatant?“When you think of each of those people, is there anything they do really well, or is unique?”
“You mean like arcane stuff?” He shook his head. “Paul and I are normal. I saw what the lord did in the demon realm, what you people did out here yesterday.” He lifted his chin toward the back yard. “We can’t do any of that.”
I smiled slyly. “Actually, that’s not true. Mzatal told me that Paul uses his computers and equipment to play with the arcane flows of Earth and can even sense them in the demon realm.” I hadn’t known Bryce long, but I’d seen him in action. “You ever get hunches? Feelings or intuition that seem to always pan out?”
Bryce shrugged. “Sometimes. Everybody does.”
Not the way he did, I was willing to bet. I traced a sigil on the porch rail. “Do you see anything? Feel anything?”
“Nope, don’t see anything.” But then he frowned. “I, uh, feel something right here though,” he said doubtfully, pressing a hand to his stomach. “Maybe. Probably my imagination.”
I dispelled the sigil. “Now?”
His frown deepened. “It’s gone.” He peered at me. “What’s the deal? I have stuff like that all the time.”
“Bear with me.” I pretended to trace another sigil. “What about now?”
“Nope, nothing. See? A coincidence.”
I smiled. “Yeah, sure,” I said and traced a complex warning sigil that pulsed and emitted a “loud” arcane broadcast.
“The back of my neck itches a little,” he said with a shrug, though I saw him wince.
I grinned and dispelled the sigil, feeling mosttriumphant. “Ha! You are sosensitive. I didn’t trace a sigil the second time.”
He shook his head in obvious disbelief. “I don’t know, Kara. That’s pretty out there.”
I gave him a withering look. “Excuse me. You spent two days on another world, were brought back from the brink of death by magic healing, and you say that butterflies in your tummy are Out There?”
Bryce gave a bark of laughter. “I mean for me. I’m just muscle.”
“Yeah, suuuure.” Brains too. He sure as hell didn’t get into vet school on brawn. Tito, the man Mzatal killed in the warehouse, fit the bill of muscle with a little arcane sensitivity. I had a feeling Bryce had a splash of arcane-bolstered intuition thrown in as well. “How many times have hunches saved your or your boss’s ass?”
He waved it off. “I have pretty good instincts in the field, and yeah, it’s been handy.”
“You’re one of the best Farouche has, right?”
“ Had,” he clarified. “But yeah, I was one of his best.”
“I think your former boss is trying to load his staff with people who are reallygood at what they do. Tell me,” I said, tilting my head, “is there anything special about the cook?”
“Hennie?” A fond smile touched Bryce’s mouth. “She’s a great cook. Nothing exceptional though.” He paused and considered. “Except maybe her red velvet cake,” he added with a chuckle. Then his brows drew together in thought. “She’s always on top of people’s allergies and preferences. Like, she never forgets and serves Jerry peas, or lets different foods touch on Carter’s plate. She cares, for sure.” He looked up, shrugged. “But it’s not a super power or anything. I will say she does make the best soup for a cold or flu though. Really does the trick.”
“Bryce, let go of the notion that sensitive people need to be X-Men mutants.”
He smiled wryly. “Gotcha. I guess that’s the picture I had in my head.”
“What about Sonny? What’s special about him?”
Bryce exhaled. “That one I know. He has this way of calming people. Mild-mannered, unassuming, often overlooked or underestimated. He was the Hispanic one you saw on the road with Farouche.”
“He didn’t look so mild-mannered with a gun pointed at me,” I said. “But I also know he’s under Farouche’s influence.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I find it pretty interesting that your former boss is hiring freaks like you.”
“Interesting for sure,” he said. “You know the accountant on the list? You could ask him to do any sort of calculation, and he’d have the answer before you could type it into the calculator. He got sick of us testing him.”
I pursed my lips, nodded. “Take a single aspect and super-charge it. Gives your former boss a lot of power. And not only does he hire people with talents, he somehow findsthem in the first place.”
Bryce rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin, frowning in thought. “Y’know, I think there’s more to it than that.”
“Such as?”
“Now you’ve got me thinking about it,” he said, “and, well . . .” He grimaced. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”
“Try me.”
He remained silent for several seconds, very obviously gathering his thoughts. “The people who are ‘talented’ get better at whatever they’re talented at after working for Mr. Farouche for a while,” he finally said. “Like Paul. He was a damn good hacker before we snatched him, but after a month he was, well, you’ve seen him in action. It’s like he leveled up. And I’ve seen the same sort of thing in several others, though I didn’t really connect it all until now.” He gave a self-conscious shrug. “Myself included. My instincts have always been good, but they got a lotbetter after I was recruited.”
I let out a low whistle. “Not only does Farouche have a way to find talented people, but he amplifiestheir talent.”
“Kara! Bryce!” Paul shouted from inside. “Come quick!”
Bryce and I hurried in and down the hall to my so-called office where Paul sat in front of his new laptop.
“What is it, Paul?” I asked.
“Is this him? Is this Idris?” he asked, practically bursting with excitement as he spun the chair to face us.
I hurried forward to peer at the grainy image on the screen. “Shit! Yes! Where is he? When was that?”
“Private jet at a small airport not far from Amarillo,” Paul informed me proudly. “Morning of the day before yesterday. He came off the plane with—” He clicked, changed to an image of a sturdy red-haired woman.
“I’ve seen her before,” I said, but the memory of where and when eluded me like a handful of smoke.
“Gina Hallsworth of Katashi’s organization,” Paul supplied after a few clicks in another window. “I ran searches for known associates of Katashi and have reference pics for most of those now.”
That was all I needed to trigger the recall. “She’s a summoner,” I announced. I’d seen her a few times when I spent my miserable time at Katashi’s.
Paul clicked again. “Bryce, this is who was at his elbow.”
Bryce’s arm brushed mine as he moved in closer. “Shit. Nigel Fox.”
