Fighting down his anger, Tommy put a hand to Oilcan’s shoulder and tried to shake him awake. Oilcan’s eyes fluttered, opened a moment to gaze guilelessly up at him, and then slowly closed. A second shake failed to rouse him at all. No wonder the man hadn’t tried to escape; he was drugged and helpless.
Breathing out a curse, Tommy hauled Oilcan up and hiked him over his shoulder.
Getting out of the camp was going to be harder than getting in.
Boot steps warned Tommy that someone was coming. He jerked back away from the empty cot and focused on the elf beyond the tent flap. He locked down on the elf’s mind as the male slipped into the tent.
Oilcan asleep on the cot, drugged beyond waking.
Going by Bingo’s description of the Stone Clan domana, the newcomer was Iron Mace. The male stood a moment, intent not on the cot but on the movement of the camp beyond the silk walls. Had Iron Mace heard Tommy? The night was still and quiet as Tommy erased himself from the male’s awareness.
Apparently satisfied that there was nothing to hear, the male turned toward the cot. He pulled the pillow out from under Tommy’s illusion and then pressed it firmly down onto the illusion’s face.
Tommy clamped down on a curse. The bastard would have killed Oilcan while he was completely helpless. This was Kajo’s puppet. If Tommy were caught by the elves after witnessing this attack on Oilcan, Iron Mace would have to kill him. Oilcan’s “murder” needed to be convincing.
Tommy had suffocated Spot’s father while the oni warrior was drunk. He’d been sixteen and scared shitless, but he could still feel the male struggling under him like it was yesterday. He fed the domana the memory: the drunken body weakly flailing under the pillow, the muffled cries, and slow but inevitable stillness.
Iron Mace leaned his whole body weight down on the illusion of the much smaller male and held the pillow tight even after the body went limp. He panted hoarsely in the stillness. Finally Iron Mace slowly lifted the pillow. Tommy planted the image of a dead Oilcan, unseeing eyes open and mouth slack. The elf gave a quiet, shaky laugh and carefully replaced the pillow under the illusion’s head. His crime hidden, Iron Mace strolled out of the tent as if he had merely checked on the sleeping Oilcan.
Tommy rested a hand on Oilcan’s back and felt the reassuring rhythm of his breathing. He needed to get both of them out of here safely.
42: AWAKING
“Wake up.” The command was growl low and menacing. “Damn it, wake up.”
Oilcan opened his eyes, feeling strangely hollow and light.
“About fucking time,” Tommy growled. A noise made the man glance off into the gray of oncoming dawn, giving Oilcan his tense profile. Tommy’s black-furred cat ears twitched as he listened to the distant noises.
Oilcan felt like a house open to the spring wind, blown clean and cold. He could remember Iron Mace drugging him and convincing Forge to change him, and then nothing. He put his hands to his ears and found elfin tips. “God damn him,” he growled as anger flowed into the emptiness and filled him with hot murderous rage. “Damn lying bastard. I–I-I. .”
He wanted to kill Iron Mace. Never in his life had he wanted so desperately to destroy someone. Beat them with his hands so he felt the blows land hard and vicious. Hear their bones break. Reduce them to a smear of blood and then wash that away. He clenched his fist against the rage.
Tommy coldly watched him fight the anger as he took a pistol out of a kidney holster and screwed a silencer into place. “That anger isn’t a bad thing. If I were you, I’d hold tight and ride it, because you need it to be hard enough to do what needs to be done.”
“Iron Mace drugged me and was going to throw me out a third-story window. When my grandfather stopped him, the damn fucking lying bastard used Forge’s grief to keep me helpless.”
In a cold, hard voice, Tommy explained how Iron Mace had tried to smother Oilcan in his sleep. “What did you do to piss him off so bad?”
“Not me — Forge’s son. He stole something from Iron Mace, a spell of some sort, something I think was deadly incriminating. He ran away from home, all the way to Earth, and handed down bits and pieces of a puzzle. I’m not sure what he took from Iron Mace, but the bastard came to Pittsburgh just to make sure nothing incriminating was floating around after nearly three hundred years.”
“Kajo pulled Iron Mace’s strings. The damn greater blood probably made sure Iron Mace had good reason to believe you and Tinker know more than you really do. Iron Mace will probably go after her next.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Oilcan whispered and realized Iron Mace had killed his own sister to keep his secret. He would try to eliminate Tinker, too.
“Don’t let the fear in,” Tommy said. “That doesn’t do you any good. Keep hold of the anger — that’s what you’re going to need. Let your rage make you strong.”
Oilcan struggled to come up with calm, rational things to say as his mind screamed in rage and fear. “How long have I been out of it?”
“I’m not sure. I was out of the city when the shit started flying. I got back yesterday afternoon, so it’s been at least a day, maybe two. I’ve been trying to get you to wake up for six hours now.”
Oilcan swore quietly as he studied their surroundings. They were someplace in Pittsburgh, tucked up into the superstructure of an overpass. A roadway crossed over their heads on spans of steel. The ground was half a dozen feet down; a steep graveled slope led down to yet another road and then a stream that glittered in pale dawn. “Where are we?”
“Close to the Southern Rim, somewhere near 88. I’m not completely sure — I cut through the woods instead of following the path out. I figured that the Stone Clan would start chasing us the minute they found you gone. Jewel Tear said that metal interferes with the Stone Clan’s scrying spells.”
Hence the nest of steel. They needed to move quickly once they left the safety of the overpass. They weren’t far from his barn retreat, where he had his spare hoverbikes. And clothes. All he had on were loose cotton pajamas three sizes too big. He was missing all his normal pocket clutter, including his cell phone. “You have a phone?”
Tommy handed him a cell phone. Tinker’s phone went straight to e-mail. He tried his own number. No messages. Tinker hadn’t left him word where she was going. With Tinker, the possibilities of where she might run off to were mindboggling. Who might know where she was?
Lain didn’t know. “Try the tengu,” she said. “They’re looking for you, so they might know how to find her.”
He hated that he still had Riki’s number memorized and that as he punched it in, Tommy’s phone recognized it. Obviously the oni ex-slaves had worked together when they were both enslaved.
Riki answered on the first ring with “What is it, Chang?”
“It’s Oilcan. Tommy pulled me out of danger—”
Riki gave a heartfelt, “Oh, thank God.”
Oilcan tried to ignore Riki’s relief. “I need to find Tinker. Iron Mace tried to kill me twice. He’s going after Tinker.”
“She disappeared on us,” Riki said. “I’ve got all eyes that I can trust completely looking for the both of you.”
If the tengu didn’t know where she was, then it was unlikely that the elves knew. “Where’s Windwolf?”
“The inbound train was captured by oni. They tried to ram it into the outbound train with all the elves onboard. The elves managed to derail the inbound engine on the South Side. The domana are blowing hell out of everything, and there’s oni everywhere.”