Corruption Read online

  “A man of few words,” Paul commented.

  “Can he talk but chooses not to, or is he mute?” Andy asked.

  “Silence does his talking online,” I said. “I believe he can talk, but prefers not to.” I noted Lorelei watching Paul like a cat watches a big mouse. “You can wait here,” I told Lorelei and Paul. “Andy and I will only be a minute.”

  Lorelei perked up, and Paul grinned. Great, both were happy.

  That was a bad sign.

  Andy and I followed the quiet technomancer inside. The Brewster sisters were no where to be seen. I looked into the dining room where I’d left the BB gun. It was gone.

  “Blood and bone,” I muttered. “I have to confiscate that gun.”

  Silence arched a questioning eyebrow as he settled into his seat on the couch, but when the glow of the screen hit his face, his attention shifted to the task at hand. I pushed away thoughts of what the mischievous sisters might be doing with the BB gun and focused on Silence as he turned his computer to face me.

  A picture on the screen depicted a boy who couldn’t be much older than seventeen. His hair was pitch black, but there was no way he’d been born with that color. Not with those freckles and bright green eyes. The picture was a mug shot, and I scanned the text to the side.

  “Armed robbery,” I read.

  Silence clicked the mouse and another window popped up. This one was a ballistics report. Silence pointed from the screen to the bullet lying on the table. It was the bullet we’d pulled from the wall of the church.

  “The gun from the robbery killed Corban and Christophe?” I asked.

  Silence nodded.

  “Do you have an address for,” I squinted at the screen, “Patrick Roberts?”

  Silence clicked the mouse again, bringing up Patrick’s file.

  Andy read the screen over my shoulder. “Got it. Let’s go.”

  Silence held up a finger.

  “Wait,” I told Andy. “Silence has more.”

  The technomancer clicked the mouse a few times. A live stream flashed on the screen. The footage from an ATM.

  “That’s Patrick.” I pointed at the screen. “Where is this feed coming from?”

  Another series of mouse clicks.

  “I know where that is. And if he’s heading in that direction, I might know where he’s headed. Wait here, I need to make a phone call.”

  Andy retreated to the kitchen to make his phone call. I noticed that he approached with caution, scanning his surroundings in broad sweeps. He also kept his butt to the wall. The Brewster sisters wouldn’t catch him off guard again.

  Silence tilted his head in question.

  I craned my neck to peer through the house toward the patio entrance. When I assured myself neither Lorelei nor Paul were coming in, I whispered to Silence. “There’s a man on the porch. He says he’s a bounty hunter—reformed, if you believe him. Does the Vanguard have anything on him?”

  The large youth nodded and unfolded himself from the couch. He grabbed the plate of cookies and headed for the porch. After a minute, he returned and put the significantly lighter plate on the table.

  “You offered them cookies,” I observed. “Clever.”

  He didn’t respond. A greenish-blue light slid over his eyes from top to bottom, the way a scanner’s light panned beneath an image. A responding light reflected over the lens of the computer’s camera, and a second later, a picture appeared on the screen.

  It was a picture of Paul sitting in the blue wicker chair Andy had abandoned. Lorelei was halfway into his lap, her hands on his shoulders as she straddled him. The demon was leaning forward enough that the bounty hunter was seconds away from the threat of suffocation, but if the grin on his face was any indication, he didn’t mind. Gary stood at the table gathering his supplies and putting them into his knapsack. It was clear from the disgusted expression on his face what he thought of sharing the room with the couple.

  Tiny green dots appeared over Paul’s face, followed by the electronic webbing I assumed was facial recognition software.

  A program opened, and I shifted at the sight of the Vanguard’s logo in the corner. I trusted Silence to get in and out of the system without anyone knowing. Still…

  A progress bar counted down to completion, and as soon as it finished, another picture popped up. I squinted at the dark, poor-quality photo. It was Paul, that much I could see, but it was difficult to make out his surroundings. The black and green picture looked like it had been taken by an infrared camera. Paul was mostly hidden in the branches of a tree, only his face visible above the vee shape of a fork in a branch.

  I scanned the text that went with the photograph. “A gargoyle wearing a security camera took this picture two days before someone killed a questing beast.” I continued reading. “It looked like Paul, but the Vanguard never found him, so he was never questioned.”

  “I told you, I wasn’t always an honorable man.”

  I whipped around at the sound of Paul’s voice. He stood in the doorway, thumbs hooked in his belt loops and an unabashed smile drawing deep creases around his mouth.

  “Thought I’d come in for a few more cookies,” he said, gesturing to the plate on the table with his chin. “Sheila out there has a sweet tooth that’s impossible to satisfy.”

  “Gluttony is a long-cherished tradition among her kind,” I muttered. I lifted the plate of cookies and held it out to him. “Here. Let her have the rest.”

  Andy came into the room, his cell phone in his hand. “I called the officer in charge of his case. I was right, he said Patrick hangs out at Lost Cause.”

  “Lost Cause?” I echoed.

  “It’s a group of abandoned warehouses where teenagers go to do whatever they can’t do at home. It’s about twenty minutes from here.”

  “Let’s go.” I put the cookies down and turned to Silence. “Thank you so much. I’ll deposit your fee in the usual account?”

  Silence nodded and gathered his things, packing up his cords and using Velcro straps to secure them so they wouldn’t tangle. He pulled the USB component of the wireless mouse out of the laptop and snapped it into the slot inside the mouse, then replaced the battery cover.

  “I’ll see you out then, shall I?” Jean asked.

  I jumped. The Brewster sister had appeared out of nowhere. Jean smoothed down the skirt of her dress and scurried to Silence’s side. She shoved a bag at him. “Here you are, dear, take these cookies to go.”

  Silence accepted the cookies, but there was wariness to his body language that said I wasn’t the only one unsettled by Jean’s sudden appearance. I gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he allowed Jean to escort him to the door.

  “I should go too,” Gary said, entering the living room with his knapsack on his back. “Though I would like it if you’d call me when your case is settled. I have a few ideas about an exorcism that might work for Lorelei.”

  “Do you?”

  Andy shifted impatiently as Lorelei sashayed into the room. Instead of resuming the activities with Paul that Silence had inadvertently documented, she tiptoed her fingers over Gary’s shoulder.

  “You think you can set me free, do you, shaman?”

  Gary winced and lifted her hand from his shoulder, shuffling a few feet away. “Please don’t touch me.”

  Lorelei’s smile faltered, but she fought to keep it in place. “I could help you relax, you know. If you’d only let me get closer…”

  Again, she put a hand on his shoulder, and again the shaman removed himself from her personal space. “If I can help you, I will. Now if you’ll excuse me…” He looked at me as he headed for the door. “Call me.”

  I didn’t mention payment to Gary, because shamans operated much like witches. We provided assistance on a barter system, more an exchange of services than any compensation.

  The demon watched him go, a considering look on her face. “He is repressed, isn’t he?” She slid her gaze to me. “Do you think he could do it? Perform the exo
rcism?”

  “Gary is a trustworthy man,” I told her. “If he says he can help, then he means it.”

  Jean came into the room holding my can of Coke. “Shade, dear, you didn’t finish your soda.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t have time. Andy and I have to follow up on a lead. I hope you don’t mind if Lorelei stays here?”

  “Of course she can stay,” Jean assured me. She waggled the can of Coke. “Here, you can take this with you.”

  “I shouldn’t. It’s a long drive, and I’d hate to have to stop on the way to use the little girls’ room.” I didn’t want to come right out and say I didn’t trust her not to have put something in the soda. But I would if she pushed it. “Where’s Josephine?” I asked.

  “Gardening,” Jean answered too fast.

  “Burying the BB gun?” I guessed.

  Jean slapped a hand against her chest, eyes widening. “Now why would you—”

  “I’m not staying,” Lorelei interrupted. She stalked forward and stood by the front door with her arms crossed and her chin stuck out at a stubborn angle. “I’m going with you.”

  “It would be safer for you if you stayed here,” Andy said. “We’ll find the man who shot Corban and Christophe. Considering how much you claim to have wanted that exorcism, I’m guessing he’s not a friend of yours.”

  “Or is he?” I took a few steps toward Lorelei, ignoring the way Jean took advantage of my distraction to make herself scarce. “Do you know a Patrick Roberts?”

  Lorelei frowned. “No. Who is he?”

  “A teenager with a criminal record. The gun used to kill Corban and Christophe was the same gun he used in an armed robbery. You’re sure the name doesn’t sound familiar?”

  “No.” Lorelei opened the front door. “Maybe when I see him in person it will jog my memory.”

  “You need to stay here,” I insisted.

  Paul rose from the couch where he’d settled while I was talking to Jean. “I’ll be going along as well. If you like, I can babysit on our demon friend.”

  “You aren’t coming,” Andy said, putting himself between Paul and the door. “No one asked for your help.”

  “But you’ll need it all the same,” Paul said easily. “Your cop friend pointed you to an area, but not a building. Tracking is what I do.” He grinned, more a baring of teeth than a smile. “Consider me your canine companion.”

  “We don’t have anything with his scent on it,” I pointed out. “We have nothing for you to track.”

  “I went to the church when I was searching for Corban and Christophe. I got the shooter’s scent when I was there.” Paul wrinkled his nose. “Besides, there’s nothing so strong as the scent of a Catholic church. That incense will still cling to him, I’d bet my teeth on it.”

  “Yours or the ones you pried out of your victims’ mouths for your little necklace?” Peasblossom asked.

  Paul grinned. “Both.”

  “I want him to come with us,” Lorelei declared. She crossed her arms. “And I’m not leaving without him.”

  I glared at her. “You’re just saying that to be difficult. You don’t know him.”

  Lorelei arched an eyebrow. “So you’re saying I should not trust someone I’ve just met? You think he doesn’t deserve a second chance? May I remind you that the only reason you know about his past is because he told you?”

  I clenched my teeth, but didn’t argue right away. She wasn’t exactly wrong. I didn’t like Paul, not even a little, but that was no reason to write him off. It would be hypocritical to deny him a second chance.

  On the other hand, a witch never brushed off her instincts.

  Lorelei seemed to read my hesitation, as well as my conclusion. She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not leaving without him,” she repeated. “I won’t be alone with all of you…” She wrinkled her nose. “Goody two shoes.”

  “We’re wasting time arguing.” Andy slid his cell phone into his pocket and brushed a hand over his holster, checking his gun. “We need to go now.”

  “Then let’s go.” Lorelei’s voice grew impatient, and she took another step toward the door.

  Paul offered her his arm, some of the heat from earlier returning to his gaze. “Allow me to escort you.” He tucked Lorelei’s hand into his arm, rubbed his hand over her fingers. Lorelei’s smile grew to match his and they walked out the door like a couple going to a concert—and planning to leave early.

  Andy and I watched them go before sharing a look.

  “Do you think she was lying when she said she didn’t recognize the name?” he asked.

  Peasblossom crawled out from behind my hair to stand on my shoulder. “Probably. Demons lie all the time, sometimes for funsies.”

  “I’m more concerned about Paul.” I dug in the side pocket of my pouch for my cell phone. “The Vanguard had a shot of him near the scene where a questing beast was killed.”

  “Questing beast?” Andy asked.

  “A very rare creature.” I frowned down at my phone. “I have three missed calls from Father Salvatore.”

  “Call him in the car.” Andy sighed. “We shouldn’t leave them alone.”

  “We’ll leave my car here, and ride together. You shouldn’t be alone with the two of them.”

  My stomach rolled at the thought of having a phone conversation in a moving vehicle. I was prone to motion sickness when I wasn’t the one driving, and thinking too hard was often enough to make me sick, to say nothing of carrying on a conversation. Still, it was a necessary evil.

  It took me five minutes to find my mints in the enchanted pouch, and then another five until I was ready to try a phone conversation. Even with the mints, I had to keep the conversation with Father Salvatore short. As I’d expected, he wanted an update on Laurie, and I could hear Thomas in the background demanding to know where we were going so he could be there to help.

  “Please tell Thomas that we’ll call as soon as we need him,” I said, rubbing my temple to ease the headache forming there. “Right now, we’re a little full.”

  I didn’t turn to glare at the bounty hunter in the backseat. Partially because it wouldn’t do me any good. And partially because he’d already shifted, and I felt silly giving dirty looks to a Tasmanian tiger. The fact that Lorelei kept petting him was an additional deterrent, dragging her hand down his thick tail with a sensuality that made me vaguely nauseated.

  “Ask him if he knows Patrick Roberts,” Andy said.

  “Father Salvatore, do you know Patrick Roberts?” I asked.

  “Patrick? Hmm, let me think. The name sounds familiar.”

  I sat up straighter. “Do you know where he lives? He had trouble with the law a few months ago and gave a homeless shelter as an address. The police officer that handled the case said he hangs out around the abandoned factory near 53rd St.”

  “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it. I’m sorry.”

  “Could you ask Thomas?”

  “He just left. I’m afraid he’s not taking it well. Being left behind, I mean.”

  I sighed. “I know, and I’m sorry. But he’s still too early in his training. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

  “Impatience is the folly of youth,” Father Salvatore agreed. “I’ll talk to him. Unless you need anything else from me?”

  “No, but if you think of something that might help us find Patrick, please call me.” After I ended the call, I sat there staring down at the screen.

  “What’s wrong?” Andy asked.

  “I’m not sure.” I glanced at Andy, then ahead at the road. There were surprisingly few construction cones—they didn’t last more than a mile. “Drive faster.”

  Andy did as I asked. “What’s going on?”

  “I might be paranoid. I’ve been dealing with the fey a lot recently, and it might have made me less trusting, too caught up on words and loopholes.”

  “Shade, what is it?”

  Peasblossom flew to the dashboard so she could see me and Andy at on
ce. “I heard him too.”

  “Will someone please spit it out?” Lorelei demanded from the backseat. “What did the old fool say that’s got your panties in a bunch?”

  “It’s not what he said,” Peasblossom explained. “It’s what he didn’t say.”

  “I asked him if he knew Patrick and he didn’t say no. He said the name ‘sounds familiar.’”

  Andy pressed down harder on the gas pedal, passing a Camry with less space between our vehicles than I’d have preferred. “You’re telling me the priest lied.”

  “No, I’m saying he didn’t lie,” I corrected him. Unease crawled down my spine, and I willed us to get there faster. “I’m saying he was careful not to lie.”

  Chapter 9

  “We’re here.”

  I studied the group of forgotten warehouses interconnected with a paved road so full of potholes I wasn’t even sure it qualified as a road anymore. The warehouses had more broken panes than actual windows, and nature swallowed what had once been a bustling center of industry. The graffiti combined with the carpet of beer cans and cigarette butts proclaimed this area a popular hangout, and I tried not to think about the purpose of the mattress in the shadow of one of the buildings.

  A pothole swallowed the SUV’s front passenger tire, and my teeth clacked together as we bounced in and out. “I wonder if Patrick’s dad has ever seen this place.”

  “No,” Andy said, his voice clipped.

  I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. I noted the sudden tightness in his jaw and wondered if he was remembering other situations in areas like this. And if whatever he was remembering had been an experience before or after his joining the FBI. I thought of the thick spider web of his psychic shield and guessed it was the former.

  A window from the backseat let out an electronic hum as Lorelei lowered it, and before I could object, Paul leapt out and hit the ground running. His thick tail swung behind him as he bolted across the gravel.

  “Why did you do that?” I demanded.

  Lorelei arched an imperious eyebrow. “Isn’t that why he’s here? To help us track down what’s his name?”

  I growled in frustration and leaned toward the front windshield, keeping an eye on Paul.