Svena met her sister’s icy glare cold for cold as she reached over and stabbed her finger against the limo’s command console. The car pulled over at once, sliding through the skyway’s night traffic into a quiet corporate park. The second they stopped moving, Svena threw open the door. “Get out.”
Her older sister exited the car without another word, the sharp heels of her delicate white stilettos clicking against the pristine sidewalk. It wasn’t until her sister was completely outside that Svena realized she didn’t actually know where they were, but any regrets she might have had about kicking her sister to the curb in a strange city vanished when she spotted a second limo waiting just around the corner, its door already open.
Svena fought the urge to sigh. Of course. Estella was a seer—of course she would know exactly when and where she was going to be tossed out and make preparations accordingly. The only real surprise was that Svena hadn’t seen it coming. Nothing in this world ever turned out anyway except exactly as a seer wanted.
Like she could read her mind, Estella chose that moment to turn, her lips curling into a cold smile as she slipped her purse over her shoulder. “Remember that, Svena,” she said, her voice haughty. “No matter how it may seem, no matter what you do, I always come out on top in the end. But while your arrogance suggests otherwise, hope is not yet lost. You have not vanished completely from my sight, which means the future can still be changed. All you have to do is be sure that, when the time comes, you make the right choice. Will you promise me that, little sister?”
Svena’s answer was to slam the door. Her limo pulled out a second later, peeling away from the little park so fast, Svena never had a chance to see the beautiful man with the absurdly long jet black hair and bright green eyes watching the drama play out from a park bench just a few feet away.
Estella was not so unobservant. Long after her sister’s car had vanished, she stood on the curb, watching the man with the sort of intense, focused hatred mortals simply did not live long enough to achieve. The man, in turn, smiled wide and patted the empty spot on the bench beside him.
With a glare that could have frozen the whole of Lake St. Clare, Estella turned on her heel and marched to her limo, slamming the door behind her. A second later, her car shot down the street after her sister’s, passing the man on the bench so fast, the rush of wind sent his long hair whipping into his face. He brushed it back again with a grin and put out his hand to provide a landing spot for the pigeon who’d just flown up through the tiny gap in the skyway below.
“Well,” he said as the bird settled on his fingers. “Isn’t that interesting?”
The pigeon tilted its head inquisitively, but the green eyed man simply kissed its soft feathers and set the bird down on the bench beside him, freeing his hand to pull a phone out of his pocket. It was an old keyboard model from before the return of magic, a veritable antique without even the most basic AR, but the lack of modern accouterments didn’t seem to bother him. He simply scrolled through the enormous contact list until he reached the Js, selected a name near the bottom, and began to type, humming the bridge of a song that wouldn’t be composed for another ten years as his fingers moved unerringly over keys that had long since been worn blank.
“Come on,” Julius muttered, tapping his foot as Lark’s phone rang and rang and rang. When the shaman’s voicemail kicked in, he hung up and started the cycle over. Again.
After ten calls failed to garner even one answer, he was forced to admit defeat. He didn’t know if Lark was deliberately ignoring him or if the shaman was simply too drunk and/or stoned to answer his phone. Both were possible. Honestly, though, he wasn’t even sure why he was bothering. It wasn’t like Lark had given him a bad address on purpose. The shaman had probably just passed on the information Katya had given him, and no dragoness on the run would be stupid enough to give a human her actual location. The real question was, how stupid was Julius for thinking she had?
Pretty stupid, he decided, pacing back and forth on the cracked sidewalk. And dead. Very, very dead. It was almost midnight already. Even if he pushed Ian’s deadline to the absolute limit, he had less than twenty-four hours to find a dragon who didn’t want to be found in the DFZ. He wasn’t sure he could pull that off even with unlimited money. On his current budget, it was downright impossible, but if he didn’t get something, he was done for. So what was he going to—
“Julius?”
He stopped pacing with a jerk and looked up to see Marci standing tentatively on the curb a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’ve been over here for a while.”
Julius rubbed the back of his neck. He supposed she did deserve an explanation, especially since he wasn’t going to be able to pay her the way things were headed, what with him being dead and all. Then again, who knew? Marci was clever and resourceful. Maybe she could help?
The idea of pulling a human he liked as much as Marci into his problems made Julius feel a little ill, but he didn’t know what else to do. So, with a deep breath, he told her the truth. “I’m in trouble.”
“I figured,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “That parking deck was supposed to be your missing girl, wasn’t it?”
Julius nodded. “If I don’t find her by tomorrow, I…” will be declared a failure and eaten. “I won’t get paid.”
“Which means I won’t get paid either,” Marci finished, putting two and two together. “Okay, what are our options?”
He stared at her, astonished. “You’re not mad?”
Marci shrugged. “Hazard of contract work. Sometimes things fall through, and getting mad about it doesn’t do anyone any good. Besides, it’s not like you’re trying to screw me over, right?”
“Of course not,” he said, horrified, which made her grin.
“See? Nothing to be mad about. I’d much rather spend my energy trying to save the job in any case. So, ideas?”
Julius didn’t answer. He was too busy savoring the wonderful astonishment at being treated like a partner instead of an idiot and a failure. “I have several ideas,” he said at last. “But they all require money.”
“Most things do,” she said with a sympathetic sigh. “What’s our operating budget?”
“About two dollars.”
Marci giggled. “Funny. Really, though, what is it?”
Julius shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I wasn’t making a joke.”
She froze, the grin vanishing from her face. “You weren’t?”
He shook his head.
“You don’t have any money?”
He shook his head again.
For several moments, Marci just stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “But,” she got out at last, “you were in Arbor Square. Everyone in Arbor Square has money!”
“I was just there to meet my brother to get this job,” Julius said. “Come on, you didn’t really think I belonged in a place like that, did you? I mean, look at me.”
He waved his hand at his ratty T-shirt and jeans, and Marci began to sputter. “I thought you were wearing that ironically!” she cried. “You know, one of those ‘I’m wearing comfortable clothes because I’m too cool to care how rich I am’ guys.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe this. How were you planning to pay me?”
“After my brother paid me,” he said. “I never meant for things to get this bad. This job was supposed to be over at the party!”