Devon Monk - Magic in the Shadows

“Did something attack you?”

“No,” he said. “Sleep. Just need sleep.”

“Well, you’re in luck. My bed’s upstairs. Come on, big guy,” I said as I pulled back to get him up on his feet. “Time to go for a walk.”

I tugged his arm toward me, ducking to put it over my shoulder.

“Walk?” he muttered.

“Walk,” I said, pushing a little Influence behind it. “You need some sleep, so we’re going up to my place. Ready?”

“Influence doesn’t work,” he grunted as he took a step, “on me.”

I’d forgotten that. “Well, how about, ‘Please don’t argue with me, because I can’t fucking carry you up three flights of stairs’?”

He took a deep breath. Exhaled while he spoke. “Since you asked so nice.”

I led us to the apartment door, keeping his arm over my shoulder and my arm tight around his waist. “Are you hurt?” We paused by the door so I could dig the key out of my pocket. “Were you attacked?”

“Just tired. Should pass in an hour or so. Heavy lifting.” He didn’t say

magic

, but I knew that’s what had exhausted him.

“There’s this new thing on the market. Called a Proxy,” I said. “Maybe you ought to try one sometime.” I pushed open the door.

“Did,” he said. “You don’t know. It’s. .” He lowered his voice to mitigate the echo in the lobby. “I am the only one who can do it. Closing. Closed. Like that.”

Well, at least now I knew what he’d done.

“Does it always hit you this hard?” I asked as we walked over to the stairs. “Closing?”

“No. He. This one. Complicated.”

“Who’s complicated?”

He looked over at me, gold eyes too gold, too red. Exhausted. Maybe feverish. Very quietly, he said, “Cody. I closed Cody. Took his memories, his magic away.”

It was like a razor-sharp finger dragging down my spine.

“What in the hell?” I said, low, vicious. “He’s an innocent.”

“No.” Zayvion shook his head sadly. “He’s never been innocent. Powerful. Hand.” He blinked and seemed to realize where he was and what he was saying. He clamped his mouth shut and glared at the stairs.

“Shit,” he said quietly. “Not here. I need to rest. Then.” He lifted one foot and set it down on the first stair.

“Then you’ll tell me what you did?”

“Then,” he agreed.

“Promise?”

“Word.” He put a few more stairs behind him and added, “You have mine.”

Man was barely able to walk and make sense at the same time.

So we climbed the stairs, not saying much. Me, fuming. Zayvion, less winded than I expected him to be. I wondered if the fatigue, if the price he was paying for Closing Cody was already fading.

He was going to have to come up with a hell of a good reason to convince me taking Cody’s memories away was a good thing. That kid already had enough going against him without dealing with people like the Authority. Like Zayvion.

By the time we got to my door and I checked and listened before opening, Zayvion was moving a little better than he had at the bottom of the stairs. But as we walked into my apartment, he stumbled, and I leaned back hard to correct his balance.

“How much do you weigh, Jones?” I groaned.

“Sorry.” He swayed a little and put his hand on the wall.

“Do I need to call someone?” I asked.

“No. I’m sleep.” He let go of me and walked a straight line into my living room. “Gonna couch. Okay.”

“Couch is fine.” I threw my wet hat on the half wall between the foyer and kitchen and glanced into the kitchen. No one there, and no note, which meant Nola hadn’t been back yet. Just in case, I checked the bedroom and bathroom too. No Nola.

The phone rang.

Zayvion was off the couch in one smooth motion. He stood slightly crouched, hands spread in front of him, ready to cast, eyes startlingly alert. If I had ever doubted it before, it was very clear just how deadly this man was.

“Hang on, hero,” I said. “Don’t kill the phone.”

Zayvion straightened, rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He blinked and looked around, trying to get his bearings, then sat on the couch.

I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s Davy,” Davy said. He sounded out of breath. Strained, like he was running. “I’m at Cathedral Park. Can you get here?”

Cathedral Park was in St. Johns. “What are you doing there?”

“Following a Hound. I need your help.”

“Who, Davy? Which Hound are you following?” He hadn’t volunteered to follow anyone at the meeting today. “If you’re in trouble, call the police.”

“Forget it,” he said. “I’ll handle it.”

And then he hung up.

Great. Just what I needed. A lovesick idiot kid out getting himself killed.

I swore softly. Davy wasn’t thinking straight. I’d put money on it being Tomi he was following. And I’d bet money he was about to get his ass kicked again.

Or worse. Tomi had said they would kill him if he didn’t stop bothering her.

Hells.

“Okay?” Zayvion mumbled. He was lying down again, on his side, since my couch wasn’t wide enough for his shoulders if he lay on his back. He had a pillow bunched up under his head. His eyes were closed.

“It’s fine,” I growled. I pulled a blanket out of the linen closet and brought it over to him.

“Should take you to class,” he said.

I pulled the blanket over him. “I can get to class on my own. I’ll call Maeve and let her know I’m going to be a little late.” And buy myself some time so I could take a trip to St. Johns and drag Davy home, in chains, if I had to.

“Mmm.” He was snoring before I made it back to the phone.

I had Maeve’s number in my book. I dialed.

“ ’Lo, you’ve reached the Feile San Fhomher,” a familiar male voice answered. “How may I help you?”

“Shamus?” I asked.

There was a short pause. “Allie?”

“Yes. I need to talk to Maeve.”

“Right, right. Well, you can’t. She’s. . busy.”

“Can you take a message for me?”

“Sure.” There was a little shuffle sound like he was digging out a pen and paper. “Shoot.”

“Tell her I’m going to be late for class. Two hours, maybe.”

He let out a hoot. “Oh, no, no, no, darling. Don’t do that. She hates it when students stand her up.”

“I don’t have a choice, okay? I can get there in about two hours.”

“Hmm. And what will you be doing in those two hours?”

At my pause he said, “Allie?” dragging the sound of my name out, like he knew I was hiding a naughty secret. “Are you up to something?”

“No.” It didn’t even sound convincing to me.

He chuckled. “What have you gotten yourself into? Come on, now. You can tell me.”

Annoying. And Zayvion’s best friend. Fine, if he wanted to know what I was dealing with, he could deal with it too.

“Zayvion was supposed to drive me out there, but he”-I paused, not knowing what Shamus knew and how much I should say-“he’s passed out on my couch.”

“Is he breathing normally?” Gone was the laughter. Gone was the teasing. Shamus was deadly serious.

The turn of conversation made my stomach flip with panic. I looked over at Zay. He was still snoring.

“Does snoring count?”

“Good enough.” Shamus sounded relieved. “How did his eyes look?”

“Gold. Really gold. And bloodshot.”

“Was he talking clearly?”

“Not really. He did climb three flights of stairs.”

“Idiot,” he muttered. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do.”

“Whoa, back up,” I said. “I already know what I’m going to do. I have a friend who’s in some kind of trouble. Zay said he just needed an hour to sleep it off.”