Trace of Magic (23 page)

“The cage is designed for far stronger abilities than hers,” Price said. “You know that as well as I do, Amy. So shut up.”

“Is that an order,
sir
?”

Price turned his death glare on her. “If that’s what you need it to be, yes.”

I guess that’s the bonus of being the boss’s brother. All three of them turned to watch me. I set the baton on the table and pulled all the junk out of my pockets, turning them inside out. I added my jacket to the pile.

“The vest too,” Baldy said.

I looked at Price, and he nodded. My fingers shook when I peeled back the Velcro. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been counting on its protection, especially here in the same room as the person who’d shot me once. I didn’t think Amy or Baldy would hesitate to do it again. They were probably just waiting for an opportunity.

“Boots,” Amy said, and she smiled.

I didn’t see that I had a choice. Price didn’t argue the point. I unlaced them and toed them off.

“Get into the pit,” Price said when I was through.

I bit the inside of my cheeks, tasting blood, and complied. I barely had both feet flat when the cage started dropping. Baldy had his fingers on the button.

Amy had tossed the tire iron onto the table and now guided the cage into the grooves before releasing the hook on top. She wrapped her fingers around one of the four gargoyle faces decorating the top corners of the cage. I felt magic flare and hum into a field around me. The nulls focused inward, contained by the silver of the cage walls. It was powerful. At least as strong as the null wall I’d torn down. Only now I was on the inside, making it impossible for me to perform magic.

Well, theoretically. If I could summon more magic than the nulls could smother, then I could do something, provided I had anything left to give. My quarter was a magic eater. It was designed to absorb magic and feed itself. So any power use would make it stronger. But once activated, that feedback loop would burn up the nulling spell pretty quick. I’d never been able to really stabilize it. I’d have anywhere from ten or fifteen minutes to an hour, depending on how much magic it had to absorb.

None of which mattered now, since I didn’t have any nulls but those on my skin. Neither was any more use than the items on the table, since I couldn’t activate them unless and until I killed the cage’s magic.

That brought me smack up against the fact that I was now helpless inside a cage, a prisoner of one of the leaders of the Tyet. Maybe the same person who’d tortured and kidnapped Josh. My stomach lurched, and I kept my teeth clenched, though my mouth filled with bile. I would
not
show Amy Oakley and Baldy how scared I was.

“Get Gregg,” Price said, though it was impossible to tell who he was talking to, except he sure as hell wasn’t talking to me.

I wrapped my arms around my waist, digging my fingers into my sides. I paced the edges of my prison. I couldn’t look at Price. A hot, hard knot tightened in my stomach. I shivered, despite the warmth of the room. Pressure rose inside me—to scream, to suck down the nulls and let the magic loose in a volcanic blast. I didn’t know if I could. I didn’t know if I would survive. Probably not.
Better to go down fighting
. The thought whispered through me, echoing in my brain. The air suddenly seemed too thin, too hot. I started to pant.

“Breathe slow,” Price said. “You’re about to hyperventilate. You’ll pass out.”

He said it in the same utterly detached tone he might have used to tell me that my fly was down.

“Go to hell,” I muttered through my clamped teeth. Just at the moment, I wished I’d never met him. I hated being at someone else’s mercy. I hated that I’d let him talk me into this mess. I was pissed as fuck that I couldn’t summon enough anger to hate
him
. Or the faith to trust him completely. I was left in a no man’s land as gray and empty as the room we were in.

I didn’t want to pass out, though, so I silently counted five on the inhale and five on the exhale. Baldy had gone to fetch the boss. Amy leaned on the edge of the conference table while Price stood nearby.

“Never figured you for going soft,” she said.

“Soft?” His brows rose.

“Keeping her alive. Shit, kissing on her like a lovesick orangutan. You’ve gone all marshmallow.”

His eyelids dropped, and he looked almost sleepy. “Any particular reason I should have killed her?”

“She’s a loose end. Shoulda put a bullet in her head. Sloppy. I mean, screw her if you have to, but take out the trash when you’re done.”

Price smiled. Sharks and crocodiles had nothing on him. He looked like he would carve out her liver and eat it right in front of her. Amy paled but didn’t look away.

“You are very free with the lives of my assets,” he observed.

His
assets?

Amy swallowed hard, but didn’t back down. “
Your
assets? You answer to Gregg, remember? Besides, she’s worthless. A hack tracer. We know everything there is to know about her.”

“Do you?” he said. “And yet you still want to kill her?”

That caught the other woman up. Her thick brows wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

“You said you know everything there is to know about her. If that’s true, then either you’re supremely stupid or—” He broke off and shook his head. “No, the only option is that you’re stupid.”

She swiveled to look at me. I turned my back on her. What was Price doing?

“Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“I don’t think so. Run along and do some homework and see if you can figure it out for yourself.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with her.”

Price pulled out a chair and sat down, kicking his legs out and crossing them at the ankle. “Why not? She’s worthless, right?”

“I don’t trust you.” Amy spit the words like poisoned darts.

The humor drained from his expression until he looked like he was carved from steel. His eyes glittered. “You don’t trust me,” he repeated without any inflection.

I didn’t understand what was going on, but Amy went white as paper and her hands trembled at her sides.

“That’s right,” she rasped. “You’re acting weird. Not yourself. Maybe a dreamer’s got ahold of you.”

His lips thinned. “A dreamer? If you think that, maybe you should put a gun on me. After all, you never know what I might be capable of doing.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Amy snarled.

“Anytime,” he taunted.

“Enough, you two,” came another voice.

I started, jerking back around. Gregg Touray had entered quietly and was already halfway across the room. I’d seen him on the news and in the papers. Baldy remained just inside one of the white doors.

It never ceases to surprise me how utterly normal the leaders of the Tyet seem. Like a guy in the grocery line or getting money at the ATM.

Gregg Touray was dark like Price, but his hair was clipped short and his eyes were a dark brown instead of sapphire blue. His face was heavier, more square, and he wasn’t as lean. Where Price was a panther, Touray was more like a bear.

He was wearing a black shirt and black jeans, with a thick silver bracelet on his left wrist. He joined Price and Amy. He ignored the woman, reaching down to pull Price to his feet.

The two men hugged. Touray thumped Price on the back in his enthusiasm.

“Clay! I was starting to think you’d run into trouble.” He pulled back, smiling widely.

Price smiled back with genuine affection. “A little. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He sobered. “We need to talk. Alone. But before that—did anyone mention that you’ve got an FBI strike force outside?”

Touray’s eyes narrowed. “Bowman?” he said, swiveling to look at Baldy.

Baldy straightened to attention and glared at Price. “It’s bullshit. The snow’s started again. There’s nothing out there.”

“Special Agent Sandra Arnow confronted us in the parking lot on security camera. She had a SWAT team agent with her. Tell me you aren’t so blind that you didn’t see that.”

Baldy looked startled. “We didn’t see anybody else but you and her.” He jerked his head at me.

Touray scowled. “You and Amy get everybody into place. Now.” His voice cracked like a whip. At the same time, he reached under the table. Small blinking red lights around the doors and elevator popped to life in a silent alarm.

Bowman trotted for the elevator. Amy hesitated. “Are you sure? He’s—” She broke off without finishing, flicking a look at Price.

“I’m what?” Price asked. He stared stonily at her. “Don’t imagine you can hammer a wedge between us.”

“Just because you’re blood doesn’t mean you won’t betray him,” she shot back, then looked at Touray. “I know he’s your half-brother, but he’s not acting right. You shouldn’t be alone with him. You can’t trust him.”

“Go, Amy,” Gregg said. “Never again presume to comment on my brother’s loyalty. I trust no one more. He will never betray me; he doesn’t know how.”

She glared at Price, her lips pinching white, and then she followed Bowman to the elevators and stepped inside.

When they were gone, he turned to look at me. “Let’s make this quick. Is this the tracer Amy shot?”

“Riley Hollis,” Price said.

“Hello, Miss Hollis,” Touray said.

He looked like he expected an answer. I said nothing. What could I say? Hey, nice cage you’ve got here. Calling him names didn’t seem like a great idea either. He might decide to punish me with a little bit of torture.

Touray waited a minute and shrugged, turning back to Price. “Sorry about the cage. Amy and Bowman were adamant that I not be left exposed.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” Price said.

“I’d like to think so, but despite what I said to Amy, the jury’s still out on that,” Touray said, then motioned back to the chairs. “Sit down. You’re right. We need to talk. “

“What about the FBI?”

“Nothing I can do until they attack. It will take them awhile to get through the shield wards, depending on the talents they’ve managed to recruit. I expect we don’t have anything to worry about for a few hours at least. Let’s get down to business. Start with what you’ve been up to. Have you gone off the reservation?”

I could feel menace gathering in the corners of the room as the two men stared at each other. Price didn’t seem at all intimidated. I, on the other hand, was wishing I was anywhere else, and not just because I was in a Tyet cage. This confrontation could end very badly.

“I want to know what’s going on with Joshua Reist,” Price said.

Touray sat back, tapping his fingers on the wood. I thought he might ask who Josh was, but he didn’t. The obvious conclusion was that he was behind the kidnapping.

“Why do you want to know?”

Price tapped his fingers on the table. “Maybe I’m tired of you keeping secrets from me.”

“That’s always been your choice, not mine. You never wanted to know too much; you always wanted to keep things simple.”

“Nothing has ever been simple.”

Touray smiled. “I told you that you’d get sick of straddling the fence one day. Are you going to tell me why you suddenly need clarity?”

“Are you going to explain what’s going on?” Price shot back, his temper rising.

“Where is this coming from?” Touray asked suddenly. “What has changed?”

He turned to look at me for a long moment. I stared back. He stood up and came to stand outside the cage. I tilted my head back so that I could see his face. Lines fanned out from his eyes, making him look older than he was. I’d been wrong about the color of his eyes. They weren’t brown, they were black and full of demons I never wanted to meet. His gaze settled on me with a weight that made me want to sink to the floor. I stiffened my legs. I wasn’t going to be intimidated. At least, I wasn’t going to let him know he intimidated me.

Though I could see the resemblance between the two brothers, Touray was as different from Price as the sun was from the moon. He burned with a violent, bleak energy. Regrets swirled around him like a cloak. He wore black because even if he changed colors, the shadows would cling to him.

I could feel the magic boiling inside him. He was a traveller, and a powerful one at that. He could take himself anywhere. If he was strong enough, he could take stuff with him, maybe even living things. He could send things places and steal them without ever walking into a room. The ultimate magician. Now you see it, now you don’t.

“Who is she, Clay?”

He turned away from me. I might as well have been a statue. I breathed in, my lungs aching. I didn’t know I’d been holding my breath. I’d thought Price was dangerous, and he was. But Touray—he was something else altogether. I could see more clearly, now, the differences between them. As if putting Price next to this monster sharpened everything I knew about him. Price clung to a certain code—a sense of honor and justice—that permeated all he did. He wanted to be a good man; he wanted to be respected for being good.

Touray was a survivor. He didn’t care about being good, or having honor or respect. If he had to do terrible things in the name of his goals, he would. Price wanted to know those goals were worthy of his sacrifice; he worried about it. Touray didn’t bother worrying about anything like morals or right and wrong. He did what he had to do. If he had to kill me, if he had to cut me open and dig around in my brain to get answers, he’d do it without hesitation. He might feel sorry about it, but he wouldn’t let that stop him. He wouldn’t let his brother stop him.

He scared the living shit out of me.

“I told you. Riley Hollis. Private tracer.”

Price’s voice made me start.

Touray sat down again. I wished he was on the other side of the table. Better yet, the other side of the room. He rested his elbows on the armrests of the chair and steepled his fingers, watching his brother. “You said you didn’t want any more secrets.”