“I got that, thanks.”
We made it to the elevator. Another question was scratching at the back of my head. “Jack, what were you doing in the park?”
“Didn’t say I was in the park.”
“So how’d you hook up with Bea?”
“Was downtown. On my own time, not a job. Saw the magic flare. Got curious.”
“You saw what happened?”
“Not really. Saw a magic fire. Thought I’d check it out. Then there was Bea all banged up on the ground. Called 911. Got ahold of the ambulance and cops.”
I studied his expression. Did I trust Jack? As much as I trusted any Hound. Which meant I expected him to have a highly developed sense of self-preservation and a somewhat stunted sense of morals and charitable leanings. Still, it seemed like he and Bea might have become friends over the last couple months. And who knew? Maybe they were more than friends.
But there was always the possibility that Jack hadn’t just been innocently downtown doing nothing at the same time as Bea was hurt.
“Is that it?” I asked.
“You have a suspicious mind, Beckstrom,” Jack said. “That look on your face. Anyone tell you that?”
“Daily.”
“I don’t want to rain on your neurosis or anything, but it was chance that had me in the same area as her. And if it’d been another Hound down, I’d be right here, doing the same damn thing. So stop trying to shove the black hat on my head, right?”
The elevator pinged and Bea jerked. “Oh,” she said. “Scared the crap out of me.”
Jack guided her chair into the elevator, pivoting it so that she was facing the doors.
“I’ll call later to check in on her,” I said.
“You’re not her mother, Beckstrom. Get over yourself.”
The door closed and the last thing I saw was Bea’s eyes, a little too wide, her mouth open as if she’d just remembered something to be frightened about, and Jack’s hard glare, his hand caught tightly on her shoulder.
Shit.
Why did I suddenly think I’d just handed Bea over to the wolves?
No, that was just me being jumpy. Jack had worked for Stotts once or twice in the past, and he’d shadowed several Hounds, and no one had complained. I was just overreacting, too keyed up. Bea would be fine.
And I’d call in an hour or two just to make sure, or maybe I’d send someone else over to her place to make sure everything really was on the up-and-up. What I couldn’t figure out was where Davy had gone.
“Excuse me,” I said to the receptionist.
Muppet-skin-hat-magic lady smiled. “Yes?”
“Have you seen anyone else come in? A young man, blondish hair, T-shirt, jean jacket.”
“No. No one at all.”
“Thank you.”
So no Davy. That meant either he was passed out somewhere, or he’d ditched me.
“Do you need to see a doctor?” she asked.
“What? No. I’m fine.”
She was still smiling, but pointedly gazed at the burnt half of my face.
That. Right. I walked to one of the windows and checked my foggy reflection. Still had all my hair. My skin was a little darker on the left-the burn-but I’d done a pretty good job blotting the blood off my face. It hurt, but no more than a sunburn.
And yet, I looked just dandy.
I pulled out my cell and called Davy. After eight rings he still hadn’t answered.
What was it with my phone tonight?
Okay, there were other ways to find people in this town. The easy way would be to cast a searching spell and see if I couldn’t Hound him down. But the hospital had a sign placed every five feet down the hall stating magic was not allowed inside the hospital.
Yeah, tell that to Muppet granny.
I didn’t want to be responsible for screwing up someone’s life-support system, or clashing with a surgery, so I’d just take it outside.
Magic. Kind of like smoking. Only in the approved areas.
“Are there stairs?” I asked as I pocketed my cell.
“All the way down the hall, to the left and to the left again. But the elevators are much faster.”
“That’s okay. I need the walk.”
I took the hall fast, not jogging, but putting my legs to good use. Left and left. I straight-armed the door leading down and got ready for my thighs to start burning.
Three flights down and still going strong, my phone rang.
Finally.
“Yes?”
“Allie, where are you?” It was Zay, and he sounded worried.
“At the hospital. Bea was hurt. I Hounded for Stotts. Davy was with me. Didn’t Shame tell you any of this?”
“Is Davy still with you?”
“No. Why?”
“You’re alone?”
“Yes.”
“Can you get around people, a crowd?”
“Zay, it’s midnight at the hospital. There is no crowd. Especially not in the stairwell. What’s wrong?”
“Get somewhere public. Get off at the next floor and tell me where you are.”
“That bad?”
“Greyson is gone.”
Chapter Eleven
A high-pitched ringing started in my ears. “Dead?” I asked, not at all ashamed at the tiny bit of hope that leaked into my voice.
“No. Escaped. He’ll be hunting you.”
With that as the option, I liked dead better.
“But what about the cage? All that magic holding him. He was supposed to be guarded, warded, blind.”
“Magic fluxed. The wards fell apart. Greyson tore the cage into twisted bits of metal. He’s out. And he’s after you.”
“You never tell me any good news, you know that?” I tried to make light, but the truth was, I was terrified. I turned the last corner and pushed open the door. “I’m on the ninth floor, by the stair exit. I’ll go find a waiting room full of people.”
“I’ll be there in just a second. Hold on.”
He made it sound like I was going to stop breathing or something. “Take your time,” I said. My phone vibrated. I had another call coming in. “Hold on.” I checked the caller ID. Davy Silvers. “Zay, Davy’s calling in. I need to pick this up. I’ll call you back.”
I hung up before Zay could protest. I wasn’t the only one Greyson had nearly killed. Davy had been right there on his fuck-up list, along with his girlfriend, Tomi.
“Davy, you okay?” I answered.
“Allie? Where are you?”
“Ninth floor. Where are you?”
“I’m downtown.”
“What?”
“Took the bus. I’m going home. You pissed me off. But not enough to make you spend all night looking around the hospital for me. Plus, you have the keys to my car and I want them back.”
“Are you crazy? Why did you do that?”
“Forget it,” he muttered.
“No, wait. Listen. Davy?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s someone out on the street who doesn’t like me very much.”
“And?”
Right, like that was news. “And I think he was part of the attack with you and Tomi in the park.”
He took a minute. The sounds of the bus’s engine filled in for his silence.
“Do you need my help?” he asked.
See, he really was a good kid.
“No, I’m calling Stotts. Zayvion is on his way. I’m probably going to go home and let the police take care of this.” Lie. A big fat one. Good thing we were on the phone; otherwise Davy never would have bought it.
“I want you to go home, and stay there until you hear from me. As soon as I have an update from the cops, I’ll let you know. And if you can’t get home, then get to the warehouse and stay there.”
“Oh sure,” he said, “I’ll just go home and sit there staring at the walls until you tell me it’s safe to go out again.”
“Davy, this is dangerous.”