“Look at you and those beautiful eyes. Good job, babe. You’re doing really good. Take another easy breath. Perfect.” He smiled. “I am Grounding the hell out of you, Dove. You need to let go of the magic, let it rest, let it fall back into the earth. Can you do that?”
Oh sure. And after that maybe I’d show him my amazing high-wire trapeze act.
“Just keep looking at me.”
I blinked, but this time I could open my eyes again.
“Good. I’m going to talk you down into a trance, all right? I’ll be right here. You’ll be safe. You’ll be warm. Comfortable. You’re safe with me.”
I listened as he droned on, and every so often reminded me to breathe. And then he guided me to feel every part of my body from the top of my head to the soles of my feet and told me to exhale and envision all of the magic pouring out of me into the ground.
I did. And I was awake. For real this time.
Zay was still above me, still sweating, still shaking, and still looking a little sick around the edges.
“Hey,” I tried to say. It came out breathy and all vowel.
“Hey,” he said. “How are you feeling, babe?”
Oh, like I could do cartwheels uphill.
“Bad,” I said. “Turd.” I’d meant to say “tired” but it didn’t come out right. Zay didn’t seem to notice.
“That’s okay. That’s good,” he said. “I’m going to help you sit, then get you to bed. Ready?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer. The room spun. Eventually I figured out it was me moving, sitting up, and not the world doing a lazy Susan.
Smart, I are.
Zay sat there with me, anxiously brushing my hair away from my face until I looked back into his eyes again.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Help me up.”
With him doing most of the heavy lifting, I was on my feet and, with his arms supporting me and his voice a constant babble of encouragement, I was across the living room, down the hall, and lying back thankfully, so very thankfully, on Zay’s bed. The strange thing was I didn’t have on any clothes.
He fussed with my pillows, and I realized some of the moisture on his cheeks wasn’t sweat. It looked like he had been crying.
“Zay?”
“I’m here.” He lowered closer to me.
“What’s wrong?”
His face went blank, still, frozen. Then he hung his head. “Nothing,” he said. He laughed, choked, then looked back up at me. “Everything’s okay.”
“Something’s wrong,” I said. “Zay. I don’t remember.” I hated saying it, but I had a really bad feeling I had missed out on something big.
“You were shot. Do you remember that?”
I remembered pain. I remembered terror. Anger.
“Right here.” Zay gently cupped my left side, just beneath my ribs. “I think the bullet went all the way through, but I haven’t gone looking for it yet. You bled pretty hard.”
“Bled?” It seemed that unless Zay had stitched me up or cauterized the wound, I should still be bleeding.
He nodded. “You healed. Like you did to Cody, I think. Magic closed the wound. Does it still hurt?”
I felt his finger brush downward from the top of my rib cage, lost feeling for some time, then felt his finger again toward my hip bone.
“It’s numb,” I said. As a matter of fact, I was feeling a bit numb myself.
“Who shot me?”
“A hit man named Dane Lanister. Do you know him?”
“No.”
“Are you sure you’ve never seen him before?”
I raised my eyebrows. “As sure as a part-time amnesiac can be.” Oh, good, the shock was wearing off.
Zay grinned. He leaned down and kissed me, not hard. I tried to kiss him back, but was too damn tired. He tasted like salt, sweat, tears, and the bitter tang of fear. Even so, he tasted good, familiar.
“Did you catch him?” I asked when he had pulled away.
“No,” Zay said. “You were pouring magic at him in a spell I have never seen before. Do you remember that?”
I shook my head.
“I had cast a Holding spell at the same time.” He gave me a long, level stare, like maybe that should mean more to me.
“And what happened?”
“Do you remember Bonnie disappearing with Cody?”
“In the field?”
“Right.”
“So Dane—the man who shot me,” I said, “disappeared?”
“Yes.”
Which meant either Zay and I had created just the right combination of spells to physically move mass—a preposterous notion—or he had one of those stolen disks, a less preposterous notion.
“Who is he?” I asked. “Who does he work for? How do you know him?”
“I don’t know who he’s working for right now, but I’m guessing it’s the same person Bonnie’s contracted with.”
The person who has the disks. The person who has Cody—the only person who saw who killed my father. The only person who could clear my name.
“How do you know him?” I asked again.
Zay stood and walked over to his dresser. He dug out a sweater and pulled it on over his long-sleeved T-shirt. “I’ve seen him off and on in my . . . career.”
“How magnificently vague of you.”
Zay tugged a stocking hat down over his head. “Thank you.”
“He tried to kill me. I deserve a better explanation.”
“There are more than one faction of magic users who do not follow the law, Allie. You’ve run into some—you’ve Hounded long enough to know what some people are willing to pay in exchange for power. The kinds of things they are willing to do.”
“Cut to the chase. We both know there are creeps and hustlers out there. Are you talking about black-market magics?”
Zay pulled his coat off a chair. “More than that. Dane runs with a pretty influential group. I’m not going to tell you their name.”
“Why? So in case I’m captured they can’t torture the information out of me?”
He gave me a long, silent stare.
“Oh. Well, isn’t that nice. So you’re talking serious psychopaths? Why would they want me dead?”
“I don’t think it’s only about you, Allie. It’s about who gets to control the tech—or maybe who gets to control your father’s company, which controls the tech. You just happen to be in their way.”
“Violet isn’t involved in this, is she?”
“If she is, she’s on our side.”
“We have a side?”
“Damn right we do.”
I pushed the covers off my legs and broke out in a sweat. Hells, I was tired. Still, I pushed up so I was sitting, and the covers slipped off. Oh yeah. I was naked. I tugged the blanket up over my chest and held it there. I was suddenly very dizzy. That was enough aerobics for the moment.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To call in a few favors. You can’t stay here long. Not after the amount of magic you poured out. I set some Diversion spells, which should confuse anyone hunting you for about an hour.” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “This won’t take me long. Rest. When I come back, we’ll need to leave on foot. Think you’ll be able to do that?”
“Which part? Resting or running?”
“Both.”
“Is there an option C? Take a vacation somewhere sunny, and drink a lot of rum until the world unfucks itself?”
Zay paced over to me, pulled the covers back over my legs, leaned down, and kissed me. He was trembling a little. Tired, I figured, or hurting. I wasn’t the only one who had thrown a lot of magic around.
“It’s good to have you back. Be here when I come home.” Then he turned and left the room.
Even tired, even burned out, I could feel spells unweave as Zay left the room. I heard the dead bolts on the door snick shut.
I suppose he meant well. My knight in ski-coat armor and all that. But I was not about to stay here and wait for him to find some way to save me. Because as soon as that Diversion spell wore off, anyone looking for me wouldn’t have to wonder where I was. They’d know, because I glowed.
I was tired of running. I wanted to be one step ahead of this problem for a change, instead of a mile behind. And the only thing I had on my side was Cody. If he had indeed seen who killed my father. Instead of waiting here to get found out, I was going to do a little hunting of my own.