Magic In the Blood

strength. And your stubbornness.”

    “Watch it,” I warned.

    “Maybe it’s not me you’re afraid to trust right now,” he said. “Maybe it’s yourself.”

    I didn’t know what to say to that. Because he was right. And I was too stubborn to admit it.

Chapter Eight

    Zayvion guided the car down the hill, heading north toward downtown. My chance for a snappy come-back had passed about a minute and a half ago. Instead, I’d opted to look aloof and unimpressed while I waited for the hot rush of blood to drain from my cheeks, neck, and chest.

    “As I was saying,” I said, “I’d like you to level with me.”

    “That sounds fair,” he said. “But it will take some time. Are you hungry?”

    My underwear were giving me the wet wedgie of a lifetime. I really wanted to change into dry clothes before going to the Hound meeting.

    “I just ate,” I said. “What time is it?”

    He nodded toward the car’s dash and a digital clock. “Ten thirty.”

    I bit at the inside of my cheek. I had just enough time for him to take me home so I could score some dry clothes before the Hound thing. And besides, he’d said he’d talk while he drove.

    “I have an appointment at noon. Could you take me home so I can change?”

    “Sure.”

    He didn’t ask what the appointment was. Didn’t ask me where I was going or whom I was going with. I was simultaneously happy and disappointed that he wasn’t interfering in my personal business.

    “I moved to a new apartment,” I said.

    “I know.”

    “Have you been spying on me, Mr. Jones?”

    “On you? No.”

    “Spying on someone else in my building?”

    “That seems unlikely, doesn’t it?”

    “Way to dodge the question.”

    “Thank you. Speaking of questions, why did you go to the graveyard today? It’s not exactly good weather for it.”

    “It’s almost December. Of course it’s not good weather. Who was that man back at the graveyard? Is he part of MERC?”

    Zayvion frowned, and our little question volley took on a more serious tone. “Where did you hear about MERC?”

    Interesting. So he knew about them.

    “Friends on the force mentioned it. Is that it? The MERC team is watching me?”

    They had wanted to tag me. Since I said no to that, it made sense that they might want to follow me in a more conventional manner. The weird thing was I had no idea why they wanted to keep such a close eye on me, unless it was because of Trager. I hadn’t worked for them yet, hadn’t Hounded whatever case might put me in the line of danger.

    And all I kept thinking about was sixteen Hounds dead in six years.

    “Maybe MERC is watching you,” Zayvion said.

    “Are you a part of that? Of them?”

    He gave me a strange look. “Allie, you know I don’t work for MERC.”

    “No. I don’t.”

    “Ah.” He Zenned.

    No other reaction. Just that: “Ah.”

    “How about a little help here?” I said. “Who are the powerful people watching me and what are they watching me for?”

    “I shouldn’t tell you that.”

    “Because you work for them?”

    “If I did, do you think I’d tell you?” He smiled, laugh lines crinkling at the edges of his eyes.

    I groaned and thunked my head on the side window. “For all that’s holy, Jones, talk to me. If I’m in danger, I need to know. Is it Trager?”

    Zay tightened, looked at me. “Lon Trager?”

    I shrugged. “I heard he’s out of jail.”

    Zay nodded. “He is.”

    “Is that it, then? Trager’s looking for me?”

    “It’s… complicated.” He glanced at me, looked back at the road. He was no longer smiling. “I do some work for the… for people. In powerful positions. The man in the graveyard is a part of the… of what I’m… working on. He might have something to do with Trager.”

    “Does he have anything to do with me?”

    “He shouldn’t.”

    “But he could?”

    “Anything is possible in this city.” At my glare, he added, “There are a lot of things going on-with people who use magic, with the people who police magic. All of them involve magic. What it is. How it’s being used. Who can use it. And you use magic, so, yes. It could involve you. It could involve Trager, but I don’t know that as a fact yet. It could involve anyone.”

    “Was my dad part of what is going on in the city? And before you answer, I know he’s dead, but I know he was a powerful magic user. There’s no reason you can’t give me the truth on this. Was he involved in what’s going on with magic in the city?”

    “Yes.” He looked like giving a straight answer hurt.

    “So the danger to me-if there is danger to me-may be secondary? Because I’m his daughter?”

    “Have I ever told you you are a very astute woman, Ms. Beckstrom?”

    “Never hurts to hear it again.” Sweet hells. People who might want to kill me were going to have to start taking a number and getting in line.

    “Did you see my father’s body before he was buried?”

    If he was surprised by the change of subject, he didn’t show it.

    “I saw it at the viewing, yes.”

    “Are you sure it was his body?”

    Now that surprised him. His heartbeat elevated, and this close, I could tell he held his breath.

    “I’m serious,” I said.

    “I know you are.” His lips pressed into a thin line. He wove the car through traffic, heading closer to the downtown area.

    “I didn’t touch the body,” he finally said. “I did lean in close to it during the viewing. It wasn’t an imposter.”

    “Not a fake? A mannequin or wax dummy?”

    “No. The man in that coffin was dead.”

    “Are you sure? Absolutely sure he was dead?”

    “Allie, I know a dead body when I see one.”

    Under other circumstances I might have asked him why, exactly, he was that familiar with corpses. But right now, I just wanted to know what he knew about my dad’s death and burial.

    “Why?” Zayvion asked.

    “Because his grave is empty.”

    No more Zen Zayvion. No more calm and quiet Zayvion of the cool mint fingers and sexy smile. He stopped