Devon Monk - Magic In the Blood

Ordered for a friend. Right. His angry cutter girlfriend, Tomi.

“Did you spit on them?” I asked.

“I thought about it.” His mischievous twinkle was back.

I’d promised Pike I’d look after the Hounds. And even though Pike wasn’t retired yet, this was a part of it.

I took the carton. Still warm. He either hadn’t been waiting for his “friend” for very long, or he had ordered the fries late into the meal. He might have called her and asked her to eat lunch with him after he was already at the table. She might even have said yes and then called back to bail on him.

I so did not miss my high school relationships.

“Tomi?” I asked just to make sure.

He tucked his hands under his armpits and shrugged. “Not anymore, you know?”

“Yeah,” I said, not knowing what else to say. I didn’t know him, didn’t know her, and didn’t have much luck with my own relationships anyway. Even though my stomach was still queasy and my head hurt, I pulled out a nice thick fry and took a bite. Hot, crunchy, salty, and greasy. Really, really good.

“Thanks,” I said, lifting the carton a little. “I think I was starving.” I popped another fry in my mouth. “Next time we start off on a bad foot, could you bring me orange soda, too?”

He grinned. “No prob.”

I shoved another fry in my mouth and walked past him. “Excellent,” I mumbled. “See you tonight.”

“Not if I’m any good, you won’t.”

“I expect you to be very, very good, Davy,” I said over my shoulder, thinking about Trager. “There are bad men out there. You stay out of their way, out of my way, and I’ll give you a cookie.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom.”

I ignored that and kept walking, stuffing my mouth with hot, salty fry goodness. I didn’t even hear Davy walk away until the door to the restaurant closed behind him.

He was good.

The last few blocks went by quickly. I devoured the fries like I hadn’t eaten this century, hoping against hope that my headache would let me keep them down.

I made it to my apartment without any other interruptions and clomped up the stairs and down the hall to my door.

I paused outside my door and listened for movement on the other side before opening it. Some old habits are worth keeping. There was no one in my apartment. I checked every room, including the bathroom, where I swallowed a couple more aspirin and wished I had something stronger. Then I tugged off my coat, hat, gloves, and boots and left them in a pile on my bedroom floor.

Standing next to my bed, I took off my jeans but left my tights on. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bed naked and be wrapped up in the softness of my sheets, but I had to get up in a few hours to Hound. Getting undressed and comfortable would only make me sleep too deeply.

It had nothing to do with not wanting to be naked and asleep if my dad’s ghost popped in to pay me another visit. It had nothing to do with an ex-con blood magic dealer looking to break my neck.

Okay. It had everything to do with that.

The tights stayed on. I did take off my sweater but left my long-sleeved T-shirt on too. Good enough.

I crawled under the covers and remembered to set my alarm for three thirty. I closed my eyes and counted each beat of my headache until it lulled me senseless and, finally, to sleep.

Three thirty showed up far too quickly.

But even that much sleep helped shave away the edges of my price-for-using-magic headache so now it was just an uncomfortable tightness at the back of my neck and temples. That, I could deal with.

I got up, got dressed, brewed a pot of coffee, and took my time drinking half of it before calling a cab. I had plenty of time to get down to the police station and meet Stotts by five. I looked out my living room window. The winter day was fading fast and would be dark soon. I checked the sky. It wasn’t raining, but I didn’t see any blue out there either.

My gaze wandered to the street. People just getting off work or done with class for the day hurried along the sidewalks, trying to beat the rush hour crowds. A couple hearty bicyclists pumped up the hill. And there, in the shadow of an awning, two men stepped forward. They stopped at the edge of the overhang and looked up at my building, at my window.

There was just enough light left in the day for me to make out their faces. Trager’s men, two of them, from the bus.

Shit.

They stared at my window, stared at me, because this building didn’t have fancy tinted windows. No, with the curtain pulled back, anyone could see into my living room. Anyone could see me.

A cab pulled up in front of the building and I let the curtain drop. If I missed my cab, I’d have to take the bus. And I was not going on another ride with those goons.

Hands shaking, I tucked my hair up in my knit hat and patted my pockets to make sure I had everything I needed. I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I was going to be fine. Let the goons watch me. Hell, let them follow me all the way to the police department; I didn’t care. All I had to do was get in the cab without letting them touch me.

Feeling a little more settled, I left my apartment and jogged down the stairs. Before I pushed through the door to the street, I looked up and down the sidewalk to be sure no one was waiting to jump me. All clear.

The wind gusted at my back as I hurried to the cab. I ducked into the backseat and glanced across the street. Trager’s men were still there, still under the awning, still watching me.

“Evening,” the cabdriver said.

“Hey.” I didn’t look over at him. “Police station, please.”

The cab slipped into traffic. I watched the goons watch me drive away and was really, really glad I’d called the cab.

Once they were out of sight, I sat back and waited for the police station to show up. I didn’t know what case Stotts wanted me to Hound. I hadn’t read a newspaper in a month, and I didn’t watch news on TV, so I wasn’t even sure what crimes had been committed lately.

Well, except that Trager was out, and I’m sure his men had been keeping busy.

Whatever Stotts wanted me to do, I planned to survive it with my head still attached, curse or no curse, Trager or no Trager.

I wondered if Davy was already following me. Unless he had a car, he was going to have a hard time keeping up with the cab. He might just be waiting for me at the station. After all, I’d said I was working for Stotts tonight. It was what I would do if I were him.

The more I thought about it, the more I thought Davy was probably a pretty smart kid. Driven. He’d have to be to Hound for a living and to be good enough to get hired on by places like the college.

But despite Pike’s assurance that Davy could take care of himself, I was going to watch out for him too. I didn’t know how far Stotts’ curse reached, and I did not want to see Davy walk off a bridge or get shot by one of Trager’s people.

The cab dropped me off in front of the station. I paid and strode up the stairs and through the door. The cavernous lobby was bustling with people. I paused inside the door, trying to remember where Stotts had wanted me to meet him. Not down their secret staircase to their secret door and their secret lair.

Maybe I should go find a receptionist to let him know I was here. Luckily I didn’t have to do anything. Detective Paul Stotts pushed through a door across the lobby, carrying two paper cups with lids.

He caught sight of me, smiled, and strolled across the lobby.

“Allie, good to see you.” He offered me one of the cups. “Nothing fancy. Black.”

“Is it from the break room?”

“Oh, God, no.” He faked shock. “You haven’t drank that, have you? You know we only use it for interrogation.”