Page 107 of Delinquents Turned Fugitives
She’d stared at it with an odd look in her eyes, before looking up and giving us a tight little smile. It was a strange form of payment. But far less traceable than the serial numbers on cash.
“Not a problem,” Lysa said. Then she’d turned and walked away, climbing onto a bike down the street. The woman from the coffee shop followed behind and got into a car as Lysa pulled out into traffic. I watched until they both had disappeared from sight.
“She’s cool, but that was weird, right?” I asked Malcolm, trying to get his read on her. He was a far better human lie detector than I was.
“Yeah, it was weird,” Malcolm’s response was distracted as he typed on his phone.
We left the coffee shop and wandered casually down the street, until I spotted the bus stop that Gray had wanted us to use. He thought we’d had the Honda long enough and wanted us to swap rides. I appreciated his paranoia, and also how he just kept bankrolling said paranoia.
I dragged Malcolm, who had his nose in his phone as he researched, over to the bench and we sat down to wait for one of Gray’s people to arrive with our new ride.
I nodded at a homeless guy who rifled through the trashcan and sent him off with five bucks. Then I turned to Malcolm and nudged his shoulder. “So, what do you think?”
He shook his head before he lifted it to stare at me. “I think Lysa’s sources are a little shady. Some random guy? Some old unregistered magical?”
I shrugged. “We don’t get to be very picky when the best we have is a How-To written by some mom blogger who’s probably never seen a ghost in her life.”
“Yeah, well how would you feel if I told you I found out who Petronella is?”
“Oh, I’d be interested.” I leaned over and peered down at his phone to see a picture of an older woman with silver hair. “What’d you do? Hack the Zoo’s hit sheets?” I’d checked the gang’s lists before I’d started recruiting because the last thing I’d wanted was someone on my crew who had a price on their head.
“Didn’t even have to hack. It’s rumored this Petronella woman is the last known Terra. It’s why the Zoo wants her. I’m guessing any gang who knows about her wants her.”
“A Terra?” The magicals who controlled earth and stone had been killed off, or killed themselves over the centuries. Their power basically gave them access to any precious gem or metal … which had turned them into the pawns of the evil and powerful. I was skeptical. “There’s got to be more than one Petronella from Iceland in the world. And why the hell would Lysa give us her real name anyway?”
Malcolm shrugged. “Lysa’s got nothing to hide from us. One phone call and she could stick pinheads all over us. We’d be worse off than a voodoo doll.”
That was true. But all of it was secondary to the issue at hand. My mother’s funeral was this afternoon. And there would be at least a hundred people who’d say Claude’s name, summoning the bastard. I needed to try to get rid of him before then. Good sources or not, Lysa’s info said we needed to try to get rid of Claude’s light, of something or someone he loved.
I didn’t think that bastard was capable of loving people.
But things …
A handsome Latino man dropped off an open-top tan Jeep for us, giving me a wink as he tossed me the keys before he walked down the street, whistling with his hands in his pockets. I drove us across town to the bastard’s house, the house I’d refused to call home for the past few years.
We parked down the street, because I was certain Muller would have someone watching the house. When we climbed out of the car, I tossed some extra shadows on our faces, distorting our noses for any video cameras the Richie Rich’s in the neighborhood might have.
Malcolm pulled a pack of gum from his pocket and offered me one. I shook my head and he popped a piece of gum into his own mouth before he took my hand. We walked like tourists, under the canopy of ancient trees, stopping at each gate to peer in at the lavish homes. When we got near Claude’s, I whispered, “This is it.” I lifted my hand and killed the signal on the security feed, pinching off the tiny line of light that ran through the wires.
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the stone mansion through the gate. The place was empty, the lights were off, not even the maid’s car could be seen. It finally looked like the tomb it had always been.
“You sure?” my Icefire asked. “This is a pretty posh place. And it won’t look good. Muller will be even more convinced it’s you.”
“He might think that. Or, I can play it off like someone’s after me too.”
“Touche.”
“Do it. That place is nothing but a torture chamber,” I responded.
Malcolm nodded slowly, and touched the gate for a second, and I saw a tiny hint of orange start to glow on one of the bars. Malcolm let his fingers trail casually down so he could grab a little sphere in his pocket. He pulled out his chewed gum, stuck the tiny sphere onto it, and then pushed the entire thing against the glowing metal of the gate.
We walked down the block, continuing our faux gawking before Malcolm pulled my arm and we turned back, casually getting into our car.
Five blocks away, we heard the most beautiful sound in the world.
An earsplitting, hair-raisingboom.
