Брайан Макклеллан - Blood Tally

“You’re on. It’ll take us until Monday to get everything together and do it quietly enough that none of Lord Ruthven’s spies in OtherOps gets a whiff of it. Can you stay hidden that long?”

Five days. That was a long time to sit still while a Vampire Lord’s henchmen were looking for you. Boris – who still had no idea any of this was happening – was going to start asking questions before that much time passed. And then there was Michael. Would he still be alive in five days? “I think we can do that,” I said.

“Good. Hang in there. We can do this.”

I hung up the phone and let out a deep sigh. It was interrupted by Olivia dropping onto the couch next to me. “Okay,” I told her. “I think we might actually live through this. My friend at OtherOps is on it. But it’s going to be dicey, and there’s a chance Lord Ruthven might still try to kill one or both of us afterwards.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? You should be pretty furious at me.” Looking into Olivia’s eyes, I could see she was still in a little bit of shock. But she also looked tired and determined. I had to remind myself that this was a woman who’d told the Cleveland Coven to fuck off. There aren’t a lot of independent witches out there, because most of them couldn’t survive in the wild by themselves. I needed to stop underestimating her.

She shrugged. “I’m a bit pissed, but I don’t really see it as your fault. Blame is useless. Besides, I figure if we live through this, I can milk this whole thing pretty good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re going to finish painting my kitchen.” She thrust a remote into my hand. “Now, let’s see how good you get at Mario Kart over the next five days.”

I spent the next two days playing Mario Kart, listening to Eddie complain about not being in his temple, and really growing to like Olivia. She was smart, thoughtful, and wildly competitive. I’d never seen someone who would do a victory dance after literally every win – and she did a lot of them. There were little things that told me that she might enjoy me as well: occasional glances, the accidental brushing of our hands, our knees touching as we played games. I’m not an idiot, but I also wasn’t about to make a move on her in this situation.

When we weren’t playing Mario Kart, she spent her time renewing her rolling scry on Michael from the privacy of the bedroom and spying on her own house to see if Jacques sent anyone by to find her. As for the former, Michael was still nowhere to be seen. As for the latter, someone came by a few hours after we left and picked up the Suburban from in front of her house but left the place itself unmolested.

I spent my own downtime trying to get ahold of Ada. She didn’t answer her phone once. Nadine had gone on vacation like I suggested, but even she couldn’t find Ada, causing us both to become increasingly worried over the status of our boss. I had to assume that she was still alive, otherwise my bond with her would be broken and I would have felt something.

Jacques called me three more times on the first day with increasingly ridiculous threats. I pretended to sound conflicted each time we spoke, until I finally demanded that he give me until the weekend to decide what, exactly, I was going to do. He did not agree, but he did stop calling me.

The silence was both welcome and terrifying. The whole next day was quiet. I kept looking at my phone, expecting someone to call – Ada, Jacques, Justin, Boris. But there was nothing. I played Mario Kart, checked my emails, and tried to keep Olivia from realizing just how terrified I was of a bunch of Lord Ruthven’s servants busting though the windows of our AirBnB. Maggie, for her part, remained quiet. She was listening carefully so she could warn me of exactly that possibility.

It was the morning of the third day and I’d just gotten out of the shower and was drying my hair in the kitchen when Maggie whispered in my ear.

Alek, you’re not wearing your shirt.

So?

You’re not at home, Alek.

I frowned, opening the fridge, failing to see her point, until I turned around and found Olivia sitting on the couch with a copy of Catcher in the Rye on her lap, staring at my chest. It wasn’t one of those oh he’s so hot stares either. I let my towel drop off my head and onto my shoulder, covering the barcode tattoo over my heart. “Morning,” I said lamely.

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “Morning.” She kept her gaze on me for a disconcerting amount of time before lowering it back to her book. I let out a sigh of relief and walked over to the window, where Eddie was lying in a sunbeam with his wings unfurled. He purred loudly as I bent to scratch the back of his neck. Once I was sure Olivia had diverted her attention elsewhere, I retreated to my bag in the corner of the room and grabbed a T-shirt, which I quickly pulled on. “Hey,” Olivia suddenly said, “I’m still curious about something: how did you avoid my scrying?”

“Oh, like I said. Reaper special.” I waved my left hand to show her the tattoo of Grendel’s claw on the back of it. “Like these tattoos. Secret of the trade.” I prayed that she dropped the subject immediately.

She did not. “Huh. Never heard of anything like that. It was weird. I’ve had scrying fail – like I told you with Michael, it’s relatively easy for normal people to hide themselves from scrying. But you … well, that was something I’ve never seen before.”

“How so?” I asked carefully. I could feel Maggie listening in.

“It was like trying to scry thin air. It’s not just that you were hidden. It was like you weren’t there. You, your clothes, your truck. I couldn’t see or sense anything. Complete, sorcerous invisibility.” I could see out of the corner of my eye that Olivia was talking without looking up from her book. “I was just curious what kind of protection could do that.”

Trying to act casual, I went over to sit at the kitchen table and began to look through my phone. You overcompensating a little bit? I asked Maggie.

I have to make my protection strong to keep Matthias from finding me, she answered. Most people aren’t that perceptive. Olivia should have given up at the failed scrying and assumed that she didn’t have the right ingredients for the spell or that she just wasn’t strong enough or … something.

Well, she didn’t. You going to answer the question?

Very funny.

I looked up from my phone. Eddie was staring at me. He blinked slowly, then glanced toward Olivia and back to me. Don’t you dare tell her, I thought furiously at him. He returned to grooming himself, and I felt the knot between my shoulders ease a little.

“You’re doing it again,” Olivia said. “That little head tilt like you’re on the phone.”

I turned toward her quickly, only to see that she was still looking down at her book. I took a deep, shaky breath. I liked Olivia – I might even have a genuine crush on her after two days sharing the same space – but I wasn’t ready to share my secrets with her. And Maggie? Well, Maggie’s secret wasn’t mine to share. I pointedly did not answer Olivia. As if sensing my discomfort, Olivia got up from the couch and crossed the room, sitting across from me at the table.

She’s not going to let up, I warned Maggie.

Maggie didn’t answer.

“That barcode on your chest,” Olivia said, absently tracing something on the table with one finger. “Is that a reaper special too?”

My mouth was dry. Goddamn witches. Couldn’t leave well enough alone. I took a deep breath, adopted my best authoritative, expressionless face, and said, “Look, you’re a nice lady. It’s been fun playing games with you for two days and I know I got you into a bad situation, but you should learn when to stop asking questions.”