The guy who’d just gone for a swim, whose wet blond hair now stood every which way, glanced back to check on Kieran’s progress. “He’s almost done.”
I expected them to get moving to keep pace. Kieran was flying through the obstacles, clearly having as much trouble here as he would on a stroll through the park. But instead the men had shuffled together to form a wall, blocking the newcomer from going any deeper into the man den. Their bodies remained poised and alert, clearly ready to react aggressively at a moment’s notice.
I got the distinct impression it was a well-known fact that no one should be in here except for the Demigod and his chosen few. A sign wouldn’t have gone amiss…
Like it would’ve mattered.
A few moments later, a horn sounded, making the mountebank jump. He looked mostly calm and collected, but he’d been reading the postures of the guys around him. No doubt he could feel the tension in the air.
Two beats later, and a blur of movement ripped along the walkway. Kieran stopped behind the guys. He rolled his shoulders, and the muscles along his robust chest flared dramatically.
I swallowed audibly.
“Well?” Kieran asked without preamble.
His men parted like the sea before Moses.
“Yes. Um…” Mountebank Iams held out the files, the sturdy paper trembling in his grasp. “It’s as you expected. Her power level is a class five.”
Freezing cold dripped down my middle. That was impossible! A class five was the highest level of magic a non-godly type could have. Class fives could do fantastic things, like play with the elements, create illusions, or fly. There was no way I had that much power. There was clearly some mistake.
Kieran opened the folder as silence trickled through the room. I could hear my heart pounding through my eardrums. He turned a page and kept reading. No one so much as shifted.
I leaned forward, nowhere near that patient. Everything in my person wanted to yell, Welllll? while simultaneously telling him to throw those results away, forget this whole thing, and let me get on with my mundane life in the crack of societies. Or, if he really wanted to help me, he could put in a good word at my local ice cream establishment, where I was hoping to rise in the ranks to executive scooper if I played my cards right. I wasn’t cut out for class-five magic. It wasn’t in my nature, and certainly wasn’t in my bloodline.
Not to mention, my magic didn’t have too many exciting manifestations. Unless you liked dead people.
Even if I was a class five, it didn’t change anything. Not one thing. Kieran had to see that.
“Has anyone else seen this?” Kieran asked, his voice even and flat and not giving anything away. I picked at my nail in unease.
“No, sir, just as you requested.”
“And her mother? Could she have passed this down?”
“Well, sir, it’s hard to know without further analysis. Genetics can manifest in unique ways.”
“So we’re blind to how this happened. With her mother deceased, and no recorded father, we’re at a standstill.” Kieran turned another piece of paper. I was dying to know what he found so interesting. “Is there any reason to suspect she knew any of this?”
The mountebank’s mouth turned downward. “Given my briefing with the Authenticator, it seems unlikely. From her file, it seems as though she’s been struggling for most of her life, without access to training or guidance. She displays the characteristics of a mutt, and has reached for and honed that which would help her the most. I doubt she even has a name for what she was able to do in the assessment room today. As such, it would be interesting to study further. She could provide valuable insight to those of my craft…”
Kieran snapped the file folder shut and held it to the side and slightly behind his body. The blond guy with wet hair took it without comment.
“I have all I need from you,” Kieran said, his tone harsh.
“Yes, sir.” The mountebank cowered and took a step back. “I understand, sir. I just want to press the point, sir, how extraordinary the events were in that assessment room today. I very much think further assessment—”
“Get out,” Kieran barked.
The mountebank flinched and took two more quick steps backward. He bowed submissively. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” He turned without another word and scurried from the room.
After the door shut behind him, silence rained down. Nobody moved or shifted. I could hear myself breathing.
“I want her watched,” Kieran barked finally, his eyes distant. “Day and night. Find out her schedule, what she does in her alone time, and who she communicates with. I want to know her better than she knows herself. Watch her wards, too. Run interference if someone tries to contact her. We’ll need to set up a training schedule, but first I need more information about her magic. Arrange for blood work. I want to know who her father is. Find out if he knows she exists.”
Anger at his continued stalking shifted to furious tingles running down my back.
My father? What did he have to do with anything? He was a one-night stand my mother had claimed not to remember. I’d figured she was lying, but hadn’t felt the need to press her. She’d always acted in my best interests. She’d also had a soft spot for assholes. If she’d thought I shouldn’t know him, or vice versa, I was good with that. I didn’t need more struggle.
But hearing that Kieran would try to find him set me on edge. It felt like my entire life was being cracked open, changed, and I was powerless to stop it.
What the hell is in that file?
Anger rose like fire in my blood.
It didn’t matter. My life wouldn’t change. Not because of more power, or some secret magic I apparently didn’t know about and certainly didn’t know how to use, and not because of some stranger showing up out of the blue and calling himself my pappy. I had two kids to take care of. My only important job was making sure they reached adulthood with enough of a head start to have a chance at life. Nothing else mattered.
As for Kieran’s cronies following me around, watching everything I did?
I barely kept from chuckling.
My magic might not be able to grow things or fight people off, but I could arrange for an entire neighborhood of invisible busybodies to bombard these bastards. My spies were bored as hell and anxious to tattle. Kieran’s guys wouldn’t be able to fart without one of my people knowing about it, and their hiding places would be given away instantly and constantly.
“Get Jim reassigned and get people on him,” Kieran went on. “I don’t want him trying to take this further. If he does, or even breathes a word of it to anyone, get rid of him for good.”
My mouth dropped open.
“The records?” an intense guy asked, standing beside Kieran now.
“Amend them with old data but a slightly improved magical score and post them. Don’t dally. I don’t want to give anyone a reason to look more closely. Make sure the distraction is up and running by the time you post the info. Put the originals on my private network. No one is to see those, do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the man said, and a growing unease gnawed at my gut.
I wanted to pull the ejection cord. I wanted to pack all this in, go home, and crawl under a rock. I didn’t know what was going on, but the implications had turned my blood cold.
“Get it set up,” Kieran said, starting back toward where the mountebank had exited. “Keep me informed of when she goes to that pub. I want to know the moment she sets out.”
“Yes, sir.”
I watched him go, followed by his groupies, thinking through the names I’d contact in the neighborhood. Hopefully most of them hadn’t yet allowed their boredom whisk them away across the Line. I only tended to check in when I needed something, and that was a rarity reserved for desperate matters only.
I wondered if a few of them would like to stalk the stalkers, heading back to their homes and haunting them. No one enjoyed being haunted.
Bing.
The breath caught in my throat and everything in me froze solid.
It was a text message. I hadn’t turned off my ringer.
Kieran stopped abruptly, followed by his groupies. As one, they turned in my direction, too slowly. Predators ready to prowl.
Bing.
This couldn’t be happening!
I couldn’t see eyes from this distance, just faces tuned in to the sound’s location.
I knew the very instant Kieran recognized me.
It was the same moment a wide smile flashed across his striking face.
32
Alexis
“Get out,” he ordered his guys in a low, growling voice. An excited voice. The predator had spotted his prey.
“Shit turds.” Heart suddenly rampaging, I burst forward and down the steps. He was across a sea of obstacles in a single moment. If I ran like hell, I had a chance to get to the door.
Then what?
I had no idea.
“Where does she think she’s going?” I heard.
“Get out!” Kieran demanded.
No witnesses.
“Batshit and tiaras.” I took the steps two at a time, catching one wrong near the end and pitching forward. I turned it into a roll, going a little sideways but stopping before I slammed into an obstacle beam.
I was up and running in a flash, not superhuman, but fast enough. I dodged behind an obstacle and quickly scanned for another way out. Nothing but wall.