To leave me empty, broken. Dead.
I heard nothing but the rain drumming like impatient claws against the ambulance roof. And even though I had a police officer armed with a gun and magic standing just a few yards from me, I was afraid.
Move over, bogeyman. There was a new hell in town.
Stotts strolled over. “They say you can go. How about I drive you home?”
Home sounded good. No, home sounded great. And once I hit my sheets, I wasn’t coming back up for hours.
Maybe days.
“I’d like to give my statement so I can get some sleep.”
We strolled over to the car, and Stotts opened the door for me. He probably didn’t think I had enough strength to do it. And even though I’d never tell him, he probably thought right.
Stotts got in after me, turned on the car and heater, and eased out into the flow of traffic.
“What did you see back there?” he asked.
“Can’t we wait until we get to the station?”
He dug in his pocket and held up a tape recorder. “How about I record it while I drive you home?”
And I swear, that was the nicest thing I’d heard all night.
“Do you treat all your Hounds this well?”
He looked over at me. Looked away. “It doesn’t always work out that way.”
Right. The curse.
He turned on the recorder and spoke his name, my name, the case number, and some other things I only gave half an ear to. That burst of energy I’d had was wearing off. I was tired. Damn tired. I felt like I’d run a marathon. Through a tar pit.
The drone of the engine, the heat of the car made it hard to keep my eyes open.
“Please tell me what you saw.” Stotts put the recorder on a little spot between the cup holder that must have had Velcro on it to keep the recorder in place.
“Both spells at the hit sites were Glamour,” I said. “The boundary lines were consistent with those I’ve seen Martin Pike use. There was also a taint of blood magic-a mix of more than one blood. I’ve never seen or heard of Pike using blood magic.”
“Did you smell Martin Pike’s blood in the spell?”
“Ms. Beckstrom? Did you smell Martin Pike’s blood in the spell?”
“Yes.”
“Deterioration?” he asked.
“No. That’s another thing. The glyphs and spells should have faded within a couple days. They were as strong as if they’d been cast an hour ago. Something or someone is feeding those spells.”
“Do you think Pike would do that?”
I shook my head, rolling the back of my skull against the headrest. “I don’t know why anyone would want to do that. And Pike wouldn’t be that sloppy. He’s been using magic for years. Before that, he served in the military. If he wanted to make someone disappear, he wouldn’t leave a giant glowing trail behind. He wouldn’t use magic to do it. It doesn’t make sense.”
Stotts exhaled. “Hounding is hard. On the body and the brain. Maybe he’s finally hit his limit. It happens.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, because it was true. Pike was tired. Worn-out. Moving on. Maybe he just got desperate. And stupid.
But Martin Pike had never been a stupid man.
“Both girls were hurt,” I said woodenly. “I could feel the violence used against them, could feel their fear. There might have been more than one person involved. The mix of blood means there were probably more than two people involved.”
“Could you identify any of the other blood?”
“No. Only Pike’s.”
“Could you identify the caster’s signature?”
“I am not one hundred percent sure who cast that spell.”
“If you had to make a guess?”
“I don’t make guesses.”
“I appreciate that, Ms. Beckstrom. But in your educated opinion, who do you think cast those spells?”
“Martin Pike.” The words felt heavy in my throat.
Stotts reached over, the leather seat creaking as he turned off the tape recorder.
We drove awhile in silence, each caught in our own thoughts.
“Will you be all right on your own tonight?” he finally asked.
“I’m looking forward to some alone time.”
Stotts slowed as he approached my apartment building. “I want to thank you for Hounding this, Allie. I know it’s a tough thing, fingering a fellow Hound. It was hard for the others too.”
I didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to know which Hounds had already told Stotts that Pike was guilty of kidnapping. Didn’t want to think it might even be some of the Hounds I met today.
“You are the first Hound to identify his blood in the spell,” Stotts said. “That could be the piece we need.”
Nail in the coffin, that’s me.
I was unable to drum up any enthusiasm for ruining an old man’s life. “I’ll send you my bill.”
Stotts double-parked on the street.
“Do you want me to walk you up?”
“No. I got it.” I wasn’t kidding about that being-alone thing. I pulled on the handle of the door. Managed to get it open on the second try.
“Allie?”
I stood up into the rain, paused.
“Is Pike your friend?”
I faced away from him. It was raining, but the wind had let off a little. I heard the train call in the distance. I closed my eyes for a moment.
To Stotts, I said, “Hounds don’t make friends.”
Chapter Fourteen
I made it up the steps to my building, where I let myself in. It was warm and dry and quiet in the lobby. I stood there a moment, dripping on the floor, content in the silence and not quite ready to face the three flights of stairs I had to haul myself up.
Sweet hells.
I put my hand on the wall and my foot on the first stair. I could do this. I could climb three stories after a day of being jumped, poked at, poked through, and squeezed. Darn right. I could climb these stairs with one foot tied behind my back. On a pogo stick. Blindfolded.
I headed up, one slow step at a time.
Okay, so this was the downside to living in a building without an elevator.
By the time I made it to my floor and my door, I was sweaty and tired. I didn’t pause to listen for anyone in my apartment. I didn’t pause to cast magic. I just shoved my key in the lock and walked in.
My apartment looked and smelled the same as how I’d left it. Nobody home but me.
I kicked the door shut, locked it, and tugged off my wet hat and jacket. The red light on my answering machine blinked, but I just didn’t have it in me to listen to my messages yet. I did one circuit of my house, turning
