Chapter Five
When I returned homeafter my run-in with Fin, my body protested every moment, especially the stairs leading up to my apartment. Every single step was a test of my willpower to see if I could lift my leg one more time.
When I finally got to the top of the stairs, my breathing ragged and my muscles screaming, there was no way I was bending down to pick up the large cardboard box sitting on my welcome mat.
Once I fished my keys out of my bag and opened the door, I nudged the box inside with my boot and closed the door behind me. Since I didn’t want to stay stooped as I dug through the box, I realized I had to bend down, pick it up, and plunk it on my desk.
Shit.
I may have moaned in pain once or twice as I did so, but at least no-one was there to hear me.
When I opened the lid, I sighed with a combination of happiness and resentment. Inside were an impressive array of pain killers, several bottles of electrolyte infused water, some cans of soup, and my black steel knives.
The pain had addled my brain so much I hadn’t felt them so near to me. Now, I needed to kill whoever thought it was a good idea to leave this box on my step unprotected.
A job for another time.
I dug out a bottle of painkillers, popped one pill in my mouth, opened a fancy water, and chugged it back. For now, bed was where I needed to be.
I trudged to my bedroom like a zombie from the walking dead. There I fell onto the mattress and managed to get partly beneath my sheets before I passed out.
My alarm woke me, and I scrambled out of bed, assuming I was late for something important. Once upright, and out of the tangle of my bedding, I noticed only a twinge in my sides as I moved. Nothing else ached, or throbbed, or screamed at me.
This revelation did its own little number on my internals. I’d told Fin I didn’t want him to heal me and he did it, anyway. As soon as I finished with my contact, I was going out to his house to pound in his stupid pretty face. He wouldn’t get away with interfering in my choices anymore. The high-handed bastard.
I seethed through my shower so much that I felt like actual steam ran off me from the spray of the water. Getting ready turned out to be a lot faster when I wasn’t moving through waves of pain.
I stood outside Alex’s office ten minutes early, though it was little more than a warehouse with a shady shop front. Abraham had said this guy would be able to help me identify the watch, but I was getting a weird feeling about the place already.
I kept my head down and ignored the people who eyeballed me where I leaned against the non-descript building. Deep in the shady part of town wasn’t a new place for me, but the fresh ass kicking I’d suffered made me feel vulnerable under their stares.
I couldn’t walk around with my knives strapped to me. The office revoked my licenses when they kicked me out, so I’d lost the ability to openly carry a weapon.
I’d need to pick up a back sheath for my knives when I had time, so I could carry them concealed. Not legal of course, but I’d never worried about walking that line.
A small, hunched man with gray flecked hair and a briefcase ambled up the sidewalk toward me. When he caught site of me, he froze. I stared at him, waiting for him to make the decision to approach or not.
“I have nothing you can steal,” he called from twenty feet away.
I shrugged. “Great, because I don’t have anything you can steal either. I’m looking for Alex.”
His eyes lit up a little. “I’m Alex.”
I inclined my head. “Then I’m your first appointment for the day.”
Something entered his eyes then. The sharp fear disappeared as though it had never really been there.
I didn’t trust him.
My gut told me to turn around and walk away quickly, but if he had information, I couldn’t run until I at least got a clue about the watch or where to hunt for what I needed.
He unlocked a heavy steel door to the right of the shop front and held it open enough for me to enter behind him. The inside of his shop looked more like a warehouse than a business. Boxes were neatly stacked and labelled. Most of them appeared way too big for jewelry or watch repair.
He hurried off to the corner of the huge room and entered a small office in the back.
“What kind of business are you in, Alex?”
“Alex is a code name... of a sort. My name is Echo,” he called from the corner of the crowded room.
Code name... interesting.
I didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t answered my original question about what sort of business he was in.
“My friend Abraham said you have something that might interest me,” he said as he returned, weaving through the crates and boxes. He’d put on a thick pair of glasses and a brown fuzzy cardigan. Just an innocuous old man, his image said.
I didn’t believe it for a second.
“I have something that recently came into my possession,” I said. “It’s not for sale, but I’m hoping I can find more information about it.”
“And...?” he prompted, holding his hands out toward me.
My gut told me I’d I would this. Sometimes, my gut said that, and it turned out absolutely right. Sometimes, I only regretted my actions a little.
“Tell me more about your business, Mr. Echo. Have you ever dealt in fae artifacts?”
He considered me more sharply. “What does a little thing like you know about fae artifacts?”
“How about mage artifacts?”
“Is that what you brought me? A magical artifact?” he asked, eagerness getting the better of him as he closed the distance between us. “I don’t buy or sell them, but I consider myself somewhat of a collector. I’ve got extensive knowledge of non-weapon artifacts. But, if you know anything about either species, you know most of the magical objects out in the open are weapons, often found in old battlefields and basements.”
“Is that right? Did Abraham tell you what I wanted you to look at?”
He nodded. “He said you have a watch that might prove to be more.”
Icy fingers danced up and down my spine, but I ignored them.
I shrugged, trying to play off my nerves. “Probably not. It’s likely just a watch, but I wanted to know more about it.”
“May I, my dear?” he asked, smiling at me with sharp teeth that looked razor sharp.
All the better to eat you with ...
My good sense and my intuition warred with my need to know the truth. There was also the large part of me that desired to keep Fin out of my life. With a deep breath, I reached into my pocket and cupped the watch in my hand.
Making direct eye contact with him, I said, “If you try anything, I will hunt you down and kill you.”
Not even a hint of worry entered his eyes. Either he didn’t see me as a threat, or he had something up his sleeve.
I extracted the watch from my pocket and held it out for him. Almost reverently, he reached forward and took it from my grip. Without another word, he marched over to a table by the wall, rigged up with lights and magnifying glasses.
I followed him, staying close. He may be trying to look harmless, but I’d been pulling that trick for ages. It always worked, and for good reason.
“Where did you say you got this?” he asked, focusing through a magnifier, the watch steady in his aged palm.
“I didn’t. Do you see anything helpful?” I leaned forward in an attempt to get a look.
The man lifted his face and glared at me. “Do you mind? I can’t work with you breathing down the back of my neck.”
I held my hands up in surrender. “Fine. Do what you need to do.”
Some of the niggling at my senses had faded. I still watched him, alert and wary, but my need to run wasn’t vibrating through me anymore. Maybe all the time I’d been spending on high alert had messed up my internal radar.
The shop seemed normal enough, and even if he was just some kind of illegal goods fencer, I didn’t care about that. Nor would many in my profession, since we often got work from fencers hunting down individuals who hadn’t paid or who’d stolen something.
I perused some of the closest shelves to me and noted one box clearly labelled weapons. So much for his protestations against them. Another box was labelled metalcraft, and another black steel.
Mr. Echo grew more and more interesting by the second.
“You really should tell me where you acquired this piece, Ms...” He lifted his head and studied me. “You didn’t give me your name.”
“Zoey.”
“Of course, Ms. Zoey. If you can tell me anything about the providence of this watch, I might be able to give you more information.”
I slipped on my dumb girl face and smiled, all ease and sunshine now. “Like what? Can’t we just say I found it somewhere.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did you steal this?”
I waved around the room at all the boxes. “Sounds like an accusation coming from a man whose business is built on stolen goods. Magical stolen goods, if some of these labels are correct.”
He cocked his head as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle just the right way. “You can read the labels?”
I tapped the one next to me, the one with the weapons label. “Of course. They’re in English. This one obviously says weapons.”
The smile on his lips now unnerved me.
“Does it? Look again.”
I glanced back at the label. Before, the word weapons had been clearly typed out in perfect Times New Roman font behind its little plastic frame. Now, the label showed a line of squiggles and swirls. The same squiggles and swirls etched into the back of the watch.
I blinked and cleared the surprise from my features. “Well, fuck, I don’t know what happened there. I forgot to eat breakfast. Must be a little lightheaded.”
His answering smile told me he didn’t believe a damn thing I said. Thankfully, he only turned back to the watch and opened the face of it to study more.
I kept glancing at the labels again, my heart pounding louder than normal. The labels remained the strange swirling script.
His voice broke through my reverie, and I focused on him. “If you perhaps told me where you acquired it, no matter the means of acquisition, it might give me more of a hint as to what I should be looking for.”
“Can you try that again? Just tell me what you want.”
He huffed as if I’d offended his delicate sensibilities. “Did you steal it from a fae or a mage, young lady?”
“See, wasn’t that way easier than dancing around things?” I said with a nod. “I stole it from a mage.”
The shimmer of appreciation in his eye made me think he didn’t have any love for mages. Or maybe they were more difficult to steal from.
Yet more mysteries about Mr. Echo I needed to assimilate.
“And did you steal it from a residence or off their person?” he continued his focus on the watch again.
“Tell me why it matters and I’ll answer your question.”
“Mages are adept at protecting themselves and their belongings. If this piece passed through a warding spell of some kind, it might be glamoured to look like an innocent watch, but the reality of it could be something completely different.”
In two seconds, I’d gotten more of a straight answer about magic than Fin or the Captain gave me in all the time we’d worked together.
“And it makes a difference if I’d taken it from their house or off them, why?”
He stared at me, his cloudy brown eyes steady despite the stack of lines his forehead made as he watched me. “Because why would a mage go through the effort of enchanting something to look like another thing if it were safe and sound in his home?”
Fair point. From what I’d seen, fae and mage magic wasn’t limitless. There were peaks and reservoirs to it, but why waste the magic when they didn’t need to.
“Off his person then,” I murmured, not exactly proud I’d stolen something that belonged to someone else. Even if that person was the devil incarnate.
“And was it during battle or in passing?”
When I didn’t answer, he let out a frustrated huff.
“Again, a mage’s wardings are different from when they are picking up coffee or if they are protecting their life.”
First order of magical business, find out what these wardings are and how to do them.
Maybe the ability would save my lungs from eventual puncturing.
Telling him I’d stolen it during a fight might give him what he needed to provide me more about the watch. However, revealing I’d fought a mage, stolen his belongings, and still survived would also reveal something about myself to this stranger. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“Sorry, let’s call that question a draw. I won’t answer it.”
He’d already gone back to prodding the watch face with a small instrument, no longer paying attention to me.
I circled back around to how much this man had already revealed about magic to me. It made me angry at Fin all over again. Why didn’t I learn any of this stuff, the moment he realized I had magic? He knew I could fight, so obviously discipline wasn’t a problem. So, what held him back?
The answer crept into my head and it made my heart ache. My mage blood had to be the only reason. He didn’t fully trust me.
I mentally touched the bond inside myself. It no longer felt ragged and aching. It didn’t sparkle and shine like it once did, but it was solid. I pulled away before Fin could connect to me somehow.
Second order of magical business, get rid of this link so he can never use it against me again.
“Well, my dear, you’ve found something remarkable.” Mr. Echo said, sighing happily as he stared at the watch.
As I stood close to him, a shiver danced through me. My gut clenched and told me to take the watch and run.
I snatched the watch from the table and closed it in my fist. He turned and stared at me in surprise, and then a grin spread across his face.
“Oh, little girl, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
He straightened up, tall and proud, and plucked the glasses from his nose.
Well, shit.
I took a deep breath, the dull ache in my chest sizzling through me. It wasn’t painful anymore, but if I didn’t have to get in another fight, that would be better.
“If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Echo, I’d like to leave now,” I said. “If you let me walk out the door, without a fight, I promise I won’t come back here and burn this place to the ground.”
He scoffed. “You are nothing to me. A half-breed welp with barely any magic. What are you going to do against me and my might?”
“Is your might in the closet, do you want me to wait for a moment while you dig it out?”
He blinked and then waved a hand. A door near the small office in the corner opened and four men ambled in.
“So it is in the closet. That’s handy.” I sighed and put my hands on my hips, studying each one of the goons. “Hello, boys.”