“Jesus,” I breathed. I tried to imagine being a street cop called in to the chief’s office along with some buddies and having one shot dead for refusing to murder a detective.
“Owen had barely hit the floor when McDunn turned to Sonny and offered the knife to him,” Bryce continued, voice growing more strained. “Sonny was about to bolt. I could feel it. And I knew he was dead if he did. I put my hand on his shoulder.” He looked away. “Damn it. I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Go on,” I said softly. I had a feeling he’d never told this to anyone before.
After a moment, he gave himself another nod, looked back to me. “I knew that no matter what we did, Ben wasn’t walking out of there alive and, if we refused, neither were we. So I told Sonny to do it. I fucking told him to do it.”
“And then you took your turn?”
“Yeah.” His voice was bleak, and he didn’t elaborate.
I sat back, regarding him, absolutely dying inside for what he’d gone through.
“In the space of about a minute,” he continued, “I’d not only killed a man—a friend and co-worker—without even knowing why, but I’d also set Sonny up for an ugly life. I still wake up at night wondering if it would’ve been better for him to take a bullet quick and easy that day.” He exhaled, shook his head. “But that’s hindsight. In the moment, I thought we’d do what they wanted then find a way to get the hell away from Farouche. I had no idea that wasn’t going to be a possibility.”
“Because of his influence, the fear and compulsion,” I said with an understanding nod. “I got a taste of that and was lucky enough to have friends to help clear it.”
“Right. I didn’t understand it either, not until Elofir and Mzatal fixed it,” he said. “You felt it. Farouche has a way about him. He knows things he shouldn’t, couldn’t. Once he brings someone into the inner circle, any thought of crossing him in any way brings up unnatural, paralyzing fear. That’s mainly the people who do or know about his wet work and other illicit activities. It’s not like that for the rest of his employees and associates. Most of them absolutely fucking love the guy. I mean, totally devoted.”
“Sounds like he can turn it both directions,” I said with a frown. “Gets his loyalty with fear or love.”
“Yeah, that sounds right. Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Now that his hold on me is gone, I look back and wonder how I could do what I did because of fear . I’m not afraid to die, but that motherfucker had me so terrified, I’d kill for him, execute for him.”
I’d seen him take a bullet for Paul. He wasn’t lying about not being afraid to die. “Sonny’s been with you since the beginning of all this. You and Paul are close to him.”
“Yeah.” Pain and regret shone in his eyes. “It’s hard on him. He’s a decent guy. I’d give anything to get him out of there.”
I had a feeling he’d lay down his life if it meant Sonny could be free of Farouche. He carried the responsibility for what Sonny was now. “After we get Idris, maybe we can help make that happen.” I met his eyes. “Bryce, what you went through was utter shit. I have no problem with you being in this house. Do you have any problem being here?”
His face grew hard, and I saw the killer in him plain as day. “Not unless you have a problem with me having one more mark on my hit list.”
“No problem at all.” I knew exactly who he meant.
“That’s dangerous thinking for a cop.”
“I’m not a cop anymore.” I pushed down the ache that rose at the reminder.
He gave me an oddly penetrating look. “Can you ever get away from being a cop, even if you aren’t carrying the badge?”
Bryce sure as hell wasn’t a meathead thug. “No, not really. Not having the badge is like losing a bit of me.” I batted a mosquito away. “It’s stupid, and I know I’ll get over it, but being a cop was as much a part of me as the summoning.” I paused, then shook my head. “No, it was more. A lot more. I belonged. I was part of something. I felt like I could make a difference as a cop.” I blew out my breath. “The summoning was just a super cool thing I did. There wasn’t any particular reason behind it. Not until last year. Then everything changed once Rhyzkahl made an appearance.”
He digested all of that, nodded. He looked calmer now, as if a weight had lifted from him. “Thanks for everything. And as long as we’re clear, I’m grateful to stay in your house.” His voice held a slight hitch. A lot of emotion lay beneath the tough guy exterior.
“Glad that’s settled.” I slapped my hands on my thighs. “C’mon. Let’s grab whatever Jekki has on the stove, fire up the game system, and kill some aliens.”
“You’re singing my tune,” he said with a smile.
Half an hour later I’d been made into mincemeat by aliens more times than I could remember, and Bryce was back to himself again.
Fuzzykins abruptly heaved her very pregnant butt onto the sofa and into Bryce’s lap. She hissed at me, then looked up at him with a Mrow?
“Don’t be shy about moving her,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the feline. “She’s a persistent pest with people she likes. I’m not one of those. She’s Eilahn’s.”
“I’m okay with her on me.” He scratched her head. “You don’t like cats?”
“Cats don’t like me. They were fine when I was young, but hated me when I got older.” I shrugged, pushed down the bloom of regret. “Found out last year that it has something to do with being a summoner.” I glared at her in mock menace. “No great loss, you mangy beast.”
Bryce gave a laugh. “Looks like you’re going to have a houseful soon.”
I groaned at the thought, then felt Mzatal’s touch and smiled. “I have something to take care of,” I told him. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted and catch you a little later. Need to pick your brain a bit.”
“Might be some slim pickings,” he said with a smile. “I’ll get started with some ideas for the camera system. It’ll keep me out of trouble.”
* * *
Mzatal knelt on the mini-nexus, head lowered and hands splayed in front of him as though sensing. A road atlas lay on the ground before him, open to a map of Texas. A faint tingle of potency flowed to him as he drew upon the resources of the convergence. I remained still and waited for him to complete whatever he was doing.
After about a minute he lifted his head, gave me a smile. “Zharkat.”
I gestured to the map. “Did you find something?”
“Great disruption in the flows here,” he said as he traced a wide circle around the Austin area. “Precipitated by an event that occurred the same day you arrived back on Earth.”
“Idris was near Austin when he called me,” I said, narrowing my eyes in speculation.
Mzatal nodded. “I sense an echo of his arcane signature amidst the tangle of flows, yet I have not yet located the cause or point of origin of the event.” Frustration darkened his eyes, and I reached for his hand to give it an encouraging squeeze.
“It’s still huge progress,” I told him, then smiled. “You’re too used to having the world at your fingertips in your plexus.”
He exhaled, gave my hand a return squeeze. “Yes. Here, it is as if—” A whisper of amusement pierced the frustration. “It is as if I am forced to use a mere calculator after utilizing the full scope of the Internet.”
I blinked at his use of such an Earth-centric analogy, then laughed. “ You have been talking to Paul.”
Mzatal’s mouth twitched in a faint smile. “He sought me out during one of his breaks when no others were awake, and I spent a pleasant hour conversing with him.”
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