Kelly Mendig - Three Days to Dead

Then again, Wyatt lived in efficiency apartments and motel rooms rented by the week. Maybe all Handlers had nomadic tendencies.

My attention strayed to a simple white wall clock next to the ivory refrigerator. It was after two o’clock. Fourteen hours until smack-down, and we were still chasing our tails. Not even in the amusing-to-passersby way, just in the we’re-pathetic-and-have-no-leads kind of way.

“Except for a farmers’ open-air market that runs every Saturday morning from nine to twelve,” Nadia said, “we have nothing. No Old Mill Road, no symbology that makes sense. Tovin cannot logically be hiding in any of these places.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “Perhaps you were too fast to execute the prisoner.”

“He didn’t lie,” I said. The peach can joined its lid, making a mighty clatter as it hit the stained sink.

“He is a half-Blood. They all lie. You were a fool to believe him.”

“I knew him before he turned, you Russian bitch. The change wasn’t taking; he was losing it. I was talking to Alex at the end, not the Blood, I’m sure of it, so back the hell off.”

She started to stand, fists balled by her sides.

“Will you two quit?” Wyatt said. “The bickering might be fun for you, but it’s not helping.” He put one hand on either shoulder and pushed Nadia back into the chair. She didn’t fight him.

I felt a strange twinge of jealousy at the manner in which he was touching her. Cursing myself a fool, I focused on the clue at hand and not on my hatred of Nadia. Our current need to join forces didn’t erase the fact that she’d once hunted me and been perfectly willing to kill me.

If folks thought regular bounty hunters had it hard, they should try serving warrants on goblins for a living. We made the most hard-core dog hunters look like pussycats.

“Olsmill,” Rufus said. It was his first contribution to our conversation in over thirty minutes. He still stared at the floor, a newfound alertness in his pale features. His eyes moved back and forth as if reading. Searching for an elusive memory.

We waited, a trio of blank stares.

“Is there more to that, or are we supposed to guess?” I asked.

“North of the city,” he said, strength in his voice. He looked up, right at me. “The Olsmill Nature Preserve closed down twenty years ago. The owners went bankrupt after their animals kept dying. No disease or apparent cause; they just up and died.”

An imaginary lightbulb went off in my brain. I bounced off the counter. “I know where that is,” I said. “It’s three miles out, along the Anjean. I’ve never been up to it, but I’ve been past the gate. If it’s the right direction, it can’t be very far from the location of First Break.”

“Which makes sense,” Wyatt said, excitement creeping in his voice. “The energy output of both First Break and all of the Light Ones living down there probably affected the animals and their heart rhythms.”

“Are the buildings still there?”

“I have no idea, but if they are, it’s a perfect hiding place.”

“Not to mention near a magical doorway.”

“You do realize,” Nadia said, “that all of this could be a trick? To send in someone you trust to lure you to a place above this Break, from which Tovin intends to summon this Tainted creature? Bravo for walking right into his trap. Again.”

Wyatt intercepted me before I could punch her. He herded me to the other side of the kitchen, away from her smirk and annoyingly angular face. He grabbed my chin with one hand and held me still. I stared right back.

“Don’t let her bait you,” he said. “She’s in pain, Evy, just like you were.”

I yanked my chin out of his grasp. “Was I that much of a bitch?”

“Aren’t you always?”

“Very funny, Truman.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“A pain in the ass.”

“Sorry to interrupt the happy time,” Nadia said, “but we have not yet decided upon a plan of action.”

“You mean, do we play right into Tovin’s hands again and head up to the nature preserve, or do we stand around and insult each other some more?” I asked.

She nodded.

“We’ll need help,” I said. “I’d feel better going up there with some Triad backup, especially if Tovin’s got a herd of Halfies guarding the place. The three of us won’t be much good against more than a dozen.”

Nadia snorted. “Three? You assume a lot.”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to kick a whole lot of Halfie ass on behalf of Tully and Wormer?” Her silence confirmed the opposite, so I switched my attention to Rufus. “How about that backup?”

“Kismet owes me a favor,” Rufus replied. “She can probably get Baylor’s team on board, if I ask nicely. Maybe Willemy, too, if he’s forgiven me for Turner Street.”

“Do I even want to know?” Wyatt asked.

“Nope.”

“That’s good backup,” I said. “Weapons?”

“Standard. I’ve got a stash. Hall closet, black trunk.”

To Nadia: “Map?”

She returned to the computer and typed. I passed Wyatt to stand behind her. She was in a great position for me to wring her neck. I quashed the urge. Wyatt was right. I’d been in her shoes, and had no business judging her anger.

The computer displayed a map of the forest north of the city. Nadia dragged the mouse to the location of the defunct nature preserve. Cherrydale Road wound along the banks of the Anjean, passed the turnoff for the preserve, and continued deep into the mountains.

“There should be a gas station here,” I said, pointing to a spot where a secondary road branched off from Cherrydale, half a mile from our destination. “You and the others will meet us there at three A.M., fully armed and assault ready.”

“Wait, who’s you and who’s us?” Wyatt asked.

“Us is you and me. We’re leaving early to go on recon. No sense in planning a blind assault on an unknown compound.”

“You are both wanted targets. Is this wise?” Nadia asked.

“Probably not, but I don’t want us separated. As long as we know what’s going on with the other person, we can control the game.” And I could keep Wyatt from acting on his damned guilt.

“Three o’clock is cutting it close,” Wyatt said.

“We need to rest a little. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t slept much in the last few days.”

“And we still need some time to figure out your Gift. Teleportation could be pretty damned useful, you know.”

“If we can find the trigger.”

“I have an idea on that. Let’s go up to the roof.”

I tilted my chin. He quirked an eyebrow.

“Fine.” Over my shoulder to Rufus, I said, “Make the calls. We’ll be back in a bit.”

It took several hard shoves to open the roof access door. Rusty hinges squealed angrily. We only managed to move it three feet before it stuck on the tarred surface.

The city hummed all around us. Car engines and the occasional bass line drifted up from the streets below. A city that never seemed to sleep, no matter day or night—consequences of a population that preferred coming out after sundown.

I followed Wyatt across the spongy surface. It was the strangest roof I’d ever walked on, and I imagined it leaked like a son of a bitch during storms. “So what’s the trigger?”

“You tell me, Evy.”

I rolled my eyes. “You said you knew.”

“I have the same pieces as you. Just put them together.”

He was going all Sphinx-like Handler on me again. I hated that. Straight answers were simpler, but he liked proving his point. Challenging me to do the work myself.

“She was in the sandbox with other kids,” I said, thinking back over the information I’d read. “Probably not having fun. She wanted to go to the toy store and see her favorite animals. It was a place she liked and felt safe. She didn’t like her preschool, so she went out to the playground. She was shy, an introvert.”