Брайан Макклеллан - Blood Tally

“That’s … not great.”

“Why?”

Another long pause. “Look, I’m not supposed to tell you any of this. My boss was pretty pissed that you wouldn’t testify beyond acknowledging that Nick the Necromancer attacked you. But here’s the deal: we’ve been investigating Kimberly Donavon’s involvement in all of that for the last couple of months while she sits in a holding cell in Canton. She hasn’t said a word since we arrested her, but we finally worked out a deal with her lawyer. In exchange for witness protection, she’s going to tell us about the whole situation.”

Maggie inhaled sharply. If Kimberly spilled her guts to OtherOps, they would know that I was holding Maggie’s ring. They might keep a lid on it and treat her privacy with respect … or the whole thing might go public and everyone would know that I’m carrying around a jinn. In the short term, that would destroy the ace-in-the-hole that gave me an edge in my job. In the long term, it meant that all of Maggie’s old enemies – or any human or Other who decided to try to capture the power of an enslaved jinn – would come looking to kill me and get her ring.

So. Not great news.

“Okay,” I replied lamely.

“Thing is,” Justin said, “we made that deal on Friday. Last night, someone shanked Kimberly in her cell. It was messy too. A corrupt guard made sure the cell door was open and two of the other prisoners tried to kill her. She’s still holding on, but she’s in critical condition. We’re moving her to a supermax hospital wing.”

I digested this news. I kinda hoped Kimberly didn’t make it but immediately felt ashamed at the hope. She was not a bad person, after all. I didn’t have to ask to know that Maggie was cheering for that untimely death. I considered the implications and wondered if OtherOps was going to try to finger me for the attack. “Is she going to make it?”

“The staff thinks so. The reason I’m calling you is this: we’re pretty sure someone put Kimberly up to the whole thing – hiring Nick to kill you and all that. It doesn’t make sense, otherwise. She’s an intermediary. I’m worried that whoever did this – well, they’re trying to shut her up now. And if they have the juice to get someone shanked inside an OtherOps prison, they’re probably a serious badass. I’m worried they might come after you directly, and I wanted to give you a heads up.”

“And?”

“Aaaaaand offer you protection if you’re willing to talk about it.” He kept talking quickly, before I could answer. “If you know something, we can put a couple of specialists on your tail, watching your back for a couple of months while we sort it all out. Even if it’s one of your clients, if they mean you harm, they’re going outside the Rules and it won’t affect your reputation to put a stop to the whole thing.”

I ran a hand through my hair, still trying to shake the last of the sleep from my head. Mags? I could feel her pacing around, the nervous energy trickling through the back of my head. It’s Matthias, isn’t it?

It has to be. The fucker let OtherOps get too close and is trying to clean up his mess now. Once he takes care of Kimberly and Nick, he’ll work out another way to get at me. At us.

Us. Maggie was his old enemy, but I was the bearer of her ring, so by default I was a target too. I was annoyed more than angry. Maggie was my friend. I would do what I could to protect her. How long do we have until Matthias decides to try again?

No idea. He’s patient as hell. I hope it’s not for a while, but …

But what?

I’m making my own plans. I still hope we can lure him in at some point and force him to let me out of here.

It was an option that we’d talked about off and on since I found out about Matthias. It put both of us at extreme risk, but it did so on our terms.

Do we tell OtherOps the whole thing and hope they can find Matthias before he decides to take another crack at us? Maybe they can convince him to let you out.

She considered this for a few moments. If I thought OtherOps could help, I would have said so long ago. But I don’t trust any of their magicians with my ring any more than I do Matthias.

Understood. If Kimberly pulls through and tells OtherOps what she knows, we might not have a choice. For now I’m gonna keep it quiet.

Agreed, Maggie replied.

“Alek?” Justin asked. “You still there?”

“I’m here. Look, I’ve got nothing to add. Sorry. Thanks for giving me the heads up about Kimberly. I’ll watch my back and let you know if anything else happens.”

Justin sighed unhappily. “You’re sure?”

“Definitely.”

“All right. I don’t mind saying I’m worried about you. Let’s get a beer soon.”

“Will do. Have a good one.” I hung up and blinked down at my bare feet for a couple of minutes, considering the conversation. “This is the last thing I need right now.”

Justin is a good guy, Maggie replied.

“Yeah, he is. Shit.” I looked at the calendar on my phone, then scrolled through the notes I’d taken over the last few days. I wondered if I was taking things too slow. It was time, I decided, to get back to work.

I waited a few hours before calling my client. He was answered on the fifth ring.

“Who the fuck is this?” a gruff voice asked.

“Boris, it’s Alek Fitz.”

He snorted. “Rockskin. What do you have for me?”

“I’ve got nothing. I’ve spent all last week trying to recreate a full file on Michael and trace his steps. If you want me to catch this guy, you’ve got to give me more information. I need to know his hobbies, his friends, what he does throughout the day. He’s got a life, doesn’t he?”

Boris made a disgusted sound. “I don’t know what he does. He’s my thrall, not my goddamned boyfriend. I’m out of town. Business trip. I don’t have time for your shit.”

“I’m telling you …”

“I’m telling you to do your job, rockskin,” he cut me off. “You call me again when you find him, yeah?” Boris hung up on me.

I’m beginning to think Boris might be hard to work with, Maggie said lightly.

“You don’t say?” I thumbed through my notes once more, looking for a handful of things I’d written down over the last couple of days. “Ah, here we go.”

What’s that?

I’m pretty sure this is Boris’s address. I’m willing to bet he has several other thralls. If Boris won’t help, I’m going to talk to them.

Boris lived off a deeply wooded, crumbling lane in North Royalton. The gravel driveway was barely visible from the road; just one cracked yellow mailbox marked the location, with the track leading down through the pines. I stopped in the street to watch the property for a moment, wondering how pissed Boris was going to be when he found out that I had come to his home.

“You sense anything?” I asked Maggie.

No wards. No protection of any kind, as far as I can tell. There’s some old barbed wire on the north end of the property, but who knows if that was even Boris who put it there. I sense three people on the premises. They’re all human, but they have that weird aura that thralls have due to their connection with their master.

No Boris?

No Boris, she confirmed. I’d be careful regardless. Vampires don’t live to be over a hundred without making some enemies, so I’d bet at least one of those thralls is armed and has instructions to shoot first and ask questions later.

Noted. I decided to head in on foot, leaving my truck parked in the lane and putting on my Valkyrie Collections ball cap and my flack vest – just in case. I made sure my Glock was loaded, slid it into my wallet, then headed in. There was a large No Trespassing sign just around the hill, and then the house came into sight.