Oh for Luck's Sake Page 4

  Rowley slid up to me. “He’s possessive about his baby.”

  “I believe we have a blanket in the trunk,” Alain said. “You can sit on that.”

  Will's car put Sonya’s to shame. While Sonya’s purred and lapped up the road, Will's roared and surged. Fortunately, I was crammed between Dex and Rowley, which meant on the sharp corners, I slid around on the wool blanket. I found myself pressed into either lemon-mint sweetness or rock-hard muscles.

  Hard life I lead, huh?

  I expected the guys to pepper me with questions, but Rowley tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and snored softly. Dex drew a beaten paperback from his pocket and buried his nose in the pages. The cover featured a cowboy riding a horse into a sunset. In the front seat, Will drove like a maniac while Alain hummed along with the soft jazz playing on the stereo.

  I guess once I turned down the work, we had nothing further to discuss.

  Which left me plenty of time to stare at the cheese on Will’s head and think about what I might have achieved with two million dollars… And how much it would suck to speak with Jane-Ann’s husband.

  Jyri Altimir’s building turned out to be a company even I’d heard of. Apex Industries was, as Alain had said, a supernatural-owned business. In fact, rumor had it that it was run by one of the gods themselves, founded before the Breaking.

  Rowley hopped out, making room for me. The pale grey building rose in an elegant sweep of architecture. Lights blazed up the tower, even at the late hour.

  Alain rolled down his window and handed me a card. “My number. Call if you ever change your mind.”

  I took it slowly. Now that we were done, I didn’t want to say goodbye to Alain, Rowley, or Dex. Will I could do without.

  The car roared off, and I took the opportunity to flip Will the bird. Boss or not, I didn’t like his attitude.

  The first recycling bin I encountered swallowed down Alain’s card. I didn’t need the temptation. It was healthier not to linger on what-could-be.

  “You made the right choice,” I murmured to myself. “Now go face the husband.”

  With a heavy sigh, I trudged into the building. My feet dragged, but I knew what I had to do. It was a night of unpleasant tasks, but I’d never been one to shy away from the difficult. I knew about sacrifices. I knew about pain.

  I knew about loss.

  After the dimness of the night, the well-lit interior blinded me. I stood in the foyer, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the sharp whites of marble and polished metal. A wide desk stood at the far end of the room, and a sharp-eyed security guard gave me directions to Altimir’s office on the seventeenth floor.

  When the elevator doors opened, I was met with more white marble, and another imposing desk. The receptionist behind the desk looked up, a blank, professional expression on her face. Her mask flickered as she took in my ragged appearance. A nametag on her perfectly round bosom proclaimed her name to be Sasha.

  “Good evening,” Sasha chirped. “How can I help you today?”

  “I need to see Mr. Jyri Altimir,” I said.

  “Do you have an appointment?” Sasha knew I didn’t. The spark of curiosity in her eyes spoke of office gossip.

  “It’s an urgent, and private, family matter,” I said, flatly. “I won’t leave until I speak with him.”

  Her smile faltered. “Your name, please?”

  “Cassie Lee.”

  “Please take a seat, Ms. Lee.” Sasha indicated a settee placed against the window. “I’ll see if Mr. Altimir is available.”

  I sprawled down onto the white leather and sighed, letting the weariness of my day leech out of me and into the soft seat. The idea of breaking the news of Jane-Ann’s death sent an anxious feeling roiling in my stomach and made the back of my neck sweaty.

  Five minutes stretched into half an hour, then longer. Sasha answered the phone in chirpy tones. The clock ticked onward. I read every boring business magazine on the corner table, including an article full of tips on how to build portfolios to increase my investing confidence and give me financial control… Whatever that meant.

  Just as I was about to doze off from sheer boredom, the elevator opened. I sat up with a start, but to my disappointment, a slender Asian woman in a sharp pant suit stepped out. She nodded to Sasha and made her way toward me. Her black, asymmetrical bob swayed as her head moved.

  “Ms. Lee?”

  I bolted to my feet. “Yes?”

  “I’m Teagan Iwata, Mr. Altimir’s Executive Assistant.” I shook her proffered hand. “Thank you for your patience. It’s been a chaotic night for the business.”

  Iwata tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing an earpiece. Her lips were lined in a burgundy red lipstick, and when she spoke, I caught a flash of sharp fangs. Vampire. That would explain why Apex Industries was open at this hour.

  I wasn’t keen on vampires. The whole cliquey, our-kind-above-others attitude put me off, but at least they kept to themselves.

  “Will Mr. Altimir see me now?”

  “Unfortunately, Mr. Altimir is busy today. I have been sent as his representative.”

  My mouth thinned. Jane-Ann had a scumbag for a husband. “I’d rather talk to Mr. Altimir in person.”

  The vampire’s smile froze on her face. “I assure you, whatever you have to say to Mr. Altimir, you can say to me.”

  “It’s of utmost importance that I speak with your boss,” I responded, trying to remind her of her place. “It’s regarding his wife.”

  The smile on Iwata’s face dropped. “Mr. Altimir’s time is invaluable. Either speak with me, or leave.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Guess I’ll be leaving then.”

  I snatched my jacket from the couch and stormed toward the elevator. The doors slid shut, blocking my view of Sasha and Iwata, who both stared at me with hostile eyes. I rode down to the foyer in silence.

  What now?

  On the ground floor, the elevator doors opened, but I didn’t step off. The security guard was not at his post. After a few seconds, the doors closed, and I stood in elevator’s quiet, organizing my thoughts.

  My fingers trembled as I reached for the floor numbers. I released a curl of magic, allowing it to dance through my hand hovering over the buttons. When I felt the tug of power, my fingers covered the number twenty-seven. The button lit up under my press, and the elevator hummed as it ascended.

  I had wasted time waiting, but I couldn’t in good conscience keep the knowledge of Jane-Ann’s death from her husband. When the elevator doors opened, a receptionist, who might have been Sasha’s twin sister, looked up in surprise.

  I barged off the elevator, my face all business. “Where is Mr. Altimir?” Sasha’s Clone opened her mouth to speak, but I snapped my fingers in her face. “Quickly! This is urgent!”

  “Conference Room Sapphire,” she blurted, trained to obey. “Follow the lines.”

  I gave her a sharp nod and spun on my heel. Stripes of green, red, yellow and blue paint burst from the Apex Industries logo, and zigzagged across the walls, streaking off in different directions. The blue line lead to the right, and I set off in that direction at a brisk walk.

  Behind me, Sasha Clone stood. “Miss! Excuse me! You can’t—” I heard the clatter of a phone, and the beeping of buttons. “Security? I need security on twenty-seven.”

  I sped up, power walking my way past offices. With my bright hair and street clothes, I drew attention like a beacon. The blue lines ended at a wall of frosted glass. Through the haze, I spied indistinct figures seated around a desk. At one end of the table, a blurry figure addressed the inhabitants.

  Bingo.

  It took me precious seconds to locate the door, as it blended into the surrounding glass. I burst into the room and was met by a sea of confused faces. At the head of the table, a woman in a brown suit gaped at me, a presentation broadcasting onto the pull-down projection screen behind her.

  I scanned the room, but at a cursory glance, I could not tell which man resembl
ed Jane-Ann’s husband from the photograph. “Mr. Altimir?”

  Nobody replied, but the woman in brown scowled. “This is a private meeting, young lady.”

  “I need to speak with Mr. Altimir,” I said. I scanned the faces, but nobody stepped forward.

  “Hey! You there!” I leaned into the hall and spotted several burly security guards marching their way toward me. At the sight of me, they broke into a trot. “Stop!”

  I returned my attention to the boardroom. “Please, Mr. Altimir, it’s urgent! It’s about your wife.” I watched the faces of the people in the room but there was no tell-tale flicking of eyes toward one person. Had the Sasha Clone lied to me?

  “Altimir!” I shouted. “Where is he?”

  “Mr. Altimir is not here,” the brown-suit replied, stepping away from my desperation.

  “Hey!” A firm hand grasped me around the upper arm. “You’re trespassing!”

  I tried to shake my arm free, but the security guard held on. I raised my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I’m coming. No funny stuff, I promise.”

  The guard hauled me away from the room, and a second one grabbed my other arm. They half-marched me, half-dragged me back to the elevator where I found Iwata, her arms crossed and a scowl of pure displeasure on her face.

  “By Ghusin’s fangs, I don’t know what you were thinking, Ms. Lee,” snapped the vampire. “This behavior is very inappropriate.”

  “I guess I got lost,” I said, shrugging as best I could under the circumstances. “These buildings are complicated.”

  Iwata’s eyes flashed. “I should call the police.” I said nothing, waiting to see which way my luck went. Iwata flicked her hair behind her ear. “However, seeing as there was no harm done, we shall let you go with a stern warning. If my people see you anywhere near Apex again, we will press charges.”

  “You’re a saint,” I said. My magic tickled and I gave into the temptation. “The next time you’re sucking Mr. Altimir’s dick, can you tell him his wife is dead?”

  Iwata’s face mottled, and I felt a surge of satisfaction that my lucky hunch had been correct. The secretary — no, sorry, Executive Assistant — fucking the boss. What a cliché.

  Her nostrils flared. “That’s incredibly rude.”

  I smacked my forehead. “Oh, you’re right! You shouldn’t speak with your mouth full.”

  “Get her the fuck out of here,” Iwata snarled at the guards.

  Dumb and Dumber kept me on a tight leash, all the way to the street. They released me, shoving me away from the building. I brushed their meathead germs off my jacket and stared them down.

  “Get lost,” Dumb said.

  “Better stay lost,” warned Dumber.

  “It’ll be my pleasure,” I said. My arms ached from their ham-hock hands.

  I watched them lumber back into the building, and they stood in the foyer watching me. I threw a glance up at the building, taking a guess at which floor Mr. Altimir or Iwata watched me. I shot my middle finger up into the air. I’d done my part.

  “Rich folk,” I muttered, hitching up my collar. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t shoot them into orbit.”

  Chapter Four

  CASSIE

  My elation at nailing Iwata faded as I walked. The burst of luck I’d used backfired, and every cab that passed me refused to stop. I tightened the laces on my boots and began the trudge back to my apartment.

  I’d only gone half a dozen blocks when the back of my neck began to prickle. I glanced behind me but saw nobody. At this late hour most honest citizens were in bed, dreaming of banging supermodels or being chased by raccoons, I don’t know. It had been a long time since I’d been an honest citizen.

  Maybe it was paranoia, but paranoia kept Procurers alive. Heck, it kept supernaturals alive. After the Breaking, everyone had a target on their backs. For centuries, the supernaturals lived in harmony, or at least in peace, thanks to the Sentinels.

  There were six of them: Detrius, Nyonia, Ghusin, Odder, Durik, and Kantha. Were. A couple of decades ago, the Sentinels went to war. Over what? Who knows? But they broke the treaty between themselves that kept the rest of us lowly supes in line.

  As a result, the winged goddess, Nyonia died. The chief suspect was her husband, Detrius, the Sentinel of Stone, who protected the creatures of earth, like trolls, and those of death, like banshees and ghouls. Who else had the power to kill a goddess, but a god of death?

  Less than a year after her death, the other Sentinels vanished.

  Their magic lingered enough to allow their priests and priestesses access to magic, but without the might of the Sentinels, the world went to hell and became a free-for-all. Predators and opportunists struck.

  After the Breaking, the poachers had swept in, taking advantage of the chaos to harvest organs and limbs from supernaturals to sell on the blackmarket. Supernatural parts contain intrinsic magic which could make the consumer more powerful. There’d been a spate of murders targeting weaker supes, especially those left vulnerable by Nyonia’s death.

  I’m not vulnerable, but I am cautious.

  Poachers moved in groups. I used the reflections in store windows to keep an eye on my surroundings. A quick flash of movement told me I definitely had a tail. I picked up speed. Whoever followed did the same.

  “I’m so over tonight,” I mumbled.

  A shadow flitted overhead, briefly blocking the streetlights. I snapped my head upward, but whatever caused the shadow was nowhere in sight. My nerves began to scream. I quickened my pace.

  A wash of headlights from a bright yellow vehicle drew my attention. A taxi turned the corner, driving toward me. The lit-up sign on the roof was a beacon of hope. I threw my hand into the air and let out a sharp whistle. The taxi slowed, and pulled a U-turn, meeting me at the curb.

  I hurried in and slammed the door shut.

  “Where to, miss?” asked the cabbie.

  “Harrison and Brooks,” I said, my face pressed to the glass, peering into the darkness to spot my pursuer. Nothing.

  To my relief, the cab pulled into the street without incident. I slumped back into the cushions and puffed out a long, slow breath. When the time calls for it, I can fight, but after the events of today, I wanted to avoid getting stabbed, beaten, or worse.

  I wearily rubbed my eyes, and they fluttered closed. The low thrum of the tires on asphalt lulled me into a state of calmness. For a moment, I allowed myself to relax, to think about the craziness of Will's offer, the indifference of Jyri Altimir, the horrors of discovering Jane-Ann’s corpse. My mind replayed visions of her wounds.

  I opened my eyes and stared out the front windshield. The interior of the cab was a whole lot better than the nightmare fuel of Jane-Ann’s remains. I watched the streets zip by, the streetlights blurred as the drizzle obscured the view.

  My eyes dropped to the meter and paused there.

  The numbers weren’t running.

  Slowly, I sat up. “Hey,” I said, “I just realized I left my purse in my friend’s car. I have no money to pay you.”

  The cabbie didn’t even glance at me. “Don’t worry about it. A girl shouldn’t be walking alone at this hour.”

  My hackles rose.

  I glanced out the window. Squat buildings surrounded me on either side. Warehouses with wide bay doors, instead of the tall apartment buildings making up my neighborhood.

  I let my dragon take over partially, covering my skin in pale scales that gleamed like opal. My finger tips extended into claws. I kept my back relaxed, knowing the cabbie was unlikely to see my transformation in the dimness.

  “This doesn’t look like my area.” My hand crept toward the door. I kept my eyes fixed on the back of the cabbie’s head. “Where are we?”

  “I know a shortcut,” the cabbie replied. “Be there in no time.”

  My fingers encountered the door handle, and I yanked. Nothing happened. I fumbled for the lock, but it would not budge.

  In the front, the cabbie adjusted the rear-view
mirror until his eyes met mine. “Now just relax, Ms. Lee.”

  I dove for him, catching the back of his head with my hand. My momentum carried him forward and his head bounced off the steering wheel. He yelped as the horn let out one sharp bleat, and seized his nose.

  “Ah!” he screamed. “You bitch!”

  The taxi weaved across the road. I reached past him and jerked the steering wheel to the side, sending the car veering. The cabbie cursed and reached for me, his foot moving from the accelerator toward the brakes.

  Too late.

  I braced myself as the cab jumped the curb and rammed into a concrete utility pole. The car lurched to a stop. I pressed my legs to the back seat and forced the rest of my body through the glass window, and into the driver’s lap.

  He reached for me with a snarl, and I dug my claws into the side of his neck. He roared in pain, trying to draw away from me. I slid my other hand to the door handle and tumbled out of his lap and onto the sidewalk.

  “Get back here!” he bellowed.

  I didn’t bother checking on the cabbie. I stumbled to my feet and bolted toward the nearest alley, my boots thumping with every step. The dark alley reeked of garbage, but I plowed onward.

  A patter of steps behind me caught my attention, and I spun, claws extended. A familiar shock of electric blue hair stopped me inches from landing a blow.

  “Whoa!” Rowley's wide apricot eyes registered shock.

  I rethought my position and swiped at him anyway. He was quicker than I expected. He darted away, dancing back to give me room, his hands raised to show he was unarmed. “Easy, Ceecee! It’s me!”

  “I know.” I drew back, adrenaline coursing through my veins. “Why the fuck are you here?”

  “I’m on your side.”

  Words were cheap, but I’d liked Rowley. Call me shallow, but I didn’t want to slash up his pretty face.

  Yet.

  “We gotta move.” He grabbed my arm and tried to hurry me along the alley to the sliver of light on the far side.

  I’d had enough of being manhandled tonight. I jerked my arm free, leaving my claws visible. “Answer my question. Why are you following me?”