“Luther? The Biohazard wizard?”
“Yep. Kate is out with Curran, so I took the call. They didn’t kill him, probably because they knew he worked for Biohazard, and they didn’t want a whole gaggle of mages hunting them down, so they hit him over the head as he was stepping out of his car. He doesn’t remember it. He remembers parking and then waking up on the ground with a headache and a bloody head. That afternoon someone brought him a rock. They claimed it fell from the sky and glowed under moonlight, and they wanted a thousand dollars for it. The magic was down by the time the rock got to Luther, so he bargained them down to three hundred bucks. He tried to get a sample to analyze, but he couldn’t cut it at his lab—nothing worked—so he took it to the Mage College, where they managed to slice a small flake from it. He was bringing the rock back to Biohazard when he was attacked.”
She reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a small plastic vial. Inside, a tiny crumb of the rock glowed. “Luther is down with a concussion, so he couldn’t go look for it.”
And he wouldn’t ask his colleagues for help, because they’d ask why the hell he’d taken a possibly magic rock out of the Biohazard building. She probably hadn’t told him she would be the one doing the job. Most likely Luther thought Kate was on it. He would’ve done the same in her place. Why worry the client? As long as the job gets done, it doesn’t matter who does it.
“So I went to the place where the rock was found, climbed the building, and waited for the magic to hit.” She tapped the container. “The rock’s magic shines like a tiny star. If you know what to look for, you can see it from miles away.”
Which meant that if Caleb could see it, he would know exactly where they were at all times. “Any way to hide it?”
She shook her head. “It’s magic, Derek. I saw it through the house. Your turn. Why are you here?”
He started with a call from Curran and coming to the house where Hope, Melissa Ives’ sister, frantically rocked herself, crying hysterically. Curran and Kate patronized that shop. It was a well-known fact, and when she found the bodies, she called 911 first and Curran second. Curran, in turn, had called him. His orders simple: Find the people responsible and make sure they never do it again. How exactly he went about it was up to him. He made sure to have Melissa Ives’ sister sign the contract hiring him and Kate and Curran’s firm to investigate the murder. Anything he did in the pursuit of the investigation gave him a blanket umbrella of self-defense. After speaking to the overworked detective at the scene, he doubted he’d need it, but Kate liked to keep things legal, and he respected her wishes.
He glossed over finding the bodies. He did tell her about Caleb Adams, the rock that broke in three parts, and the dead men in the bar. Her face got tighter and tighter as he spoke.
“I hate people,” she said when he finished.
He wasn’t a fan of people either.
“What does it do?” he asked, looking at the rock.
“I don’t know.”
Whatever it was, people were willing to kill for it. The mission parameters had changed, he decided. He would still punish Adams for killing the Iveses. But he would have to recover the rock as well. It was too dangerous to be left uncontained.
A light noise came from the outside. He inhaled. Patricia, one of Jim’s shapeshifter agents; Nicolas; and two others whose scents he knew well. They’d come to pick up the injured. They’d smell him and Julie. If they had any questions, they’d look them up.
Julie tilted her head, giving him an appraising look. “So, Pillar Rock or Caleb Adams?”
She wouldn’t let go of this, and he wasn’t fool enough to try to convince her otherwise. Once Julie got a case, she was like a wolf with a bone. A dog would give up a treat for his human; a wolf surrendered it to no one. She could see the rock’s magic, and he couldn’t. He could either work with her and get this done faster and safer, or he could go off on his own. The latter brought no benefits, and he would wonder where she was and what she was doing the entire time.
“Pillar Rock,” he said. “We know where Caleb is likely to be. We know we’ll have to go and see him at some point tonight.”
“Him and his gang of enforcers who think they are big and bad.” Julie’s eyes narrowed. “We should talk to them about the Iveses.”
“We will,” he promised. “We don’t know who is at Pillar Rock. Maybe it’s a third party.”
“Maybe it’s Caleb.” Julie smiled.
“If we’re lucky.”
They looked at each other. In that moment he knew they were thinking the exact same thing. Caleb Adams didn’t know the Ives family, but before the night was over, he would regret their deaths. He would regret them more than he ever regretted anything in his life.
CHAPTER 2
PILLAR ROCK THRUST OUT of the ground among the ruins of North DeKalb Mall, a little over five miles away. He could’ve run it in half an hour, even if he took his time and carried Julie, which would be faster than her horse picking her way through the treacherously degraded streets. But Peanut had to come along and she trotted at about eight miles per hour, so he kept pace with a light jog.
He’d pointed out before that the horse was neither brown nor peanut-shaped, so the name didn’t describe her in any way, and he was told that was the point. He let it lie. Some things you simply accepted, the way you accepted the sunrise or the winter cold. They called it lupine fatalism, but in reality it was plain common sense.
The moon lit their way. The north side of the city fought a never-ending battle with encroaching wilderness. On some streets, the pavement had worn away, surrendering to the forest growth, but North Druid Hills Road was still somewhat clear, if overgrown. Here and there a rusty car poked through the spring weeds, pushed or driven off the road just far enough to not block the way. The trees grew thick here, their massive branches shading the road, painting it in patches of shadow and light. Behind them houses crouched, most still occupied. The closer they got to North DeKalb Mall, the fewer houses would be occupied. The wilderness was frightening now to most humans. They sought safety in numbers, migrating toward the center of the city.
The wilderness never bothered him. He loved it.
He wondered idly if Julie liked it, too. He’d never asked her.
He wondered about many things he never talked about—most of the time there was no need for questions. He would get his answers if he waited long enough. However, she had said something that required a clarification.
“Herald?” he asked. He’d never heard Kate use the term.
“That’s the official title,” she said. “Before one becomes a Warlord, one must be a Herald. That’s what Hugh d’Ambray was before he became the Preceptor of the Iron Dogs. “
Hugh d’Ambray. The name raised invisible hackles on his back.
He fought to keep the snarl out of his voice. “I didn’t know Kate needed a Warlord.”
“She doesn’t. She has Curran. He is her Consort and her general.”
His mind struggled for a few seconds. Those terms were usually flipped. To him, Curran was the Beast Lord, ex-Beast Lord now, and Kate was his Consort. That was the official title, and Kate had hated it. She would’ve never used it to refer to Curran. He knew where this was coming from, and he didn’t like it.
“You’ve been talking to him again.”
She didn’t say anything, her gaze fixed on the street ahead.
Damn it. “Why the hell do you keep talking to him?”
“Because Roland teaches me things.”
“What could he possibly teach you? How to be an immortal megalomaniac dickhead who kills his own kids? That’s some great lesson.”
“He teaches me magic.” She glared at him.
“Stay away from him. He is dangerous.”
She opened her eyes really wide and blinked at him. “Oh really? You think so? I had no idea.”