“Tony,” I said, throwing a chuckle into my voice. “It’s Joseph.” A pit grew in my stomach. “Sorry, I… erm… I’m late. I woke up sick this morning.”
“Hunter?” he asked. “That you?”
“It’s me.”
“Well, holy shit,” he said. “You woke up sick, huh?”
“I did.” My headache still lingered, but the nausea had faded. The coffee had already kicked in, detoxifying my system and churning my stomach. I had a million lies I could have told him, but lies had never fit me too well.
“You still sick?”
“Think I’ll be sick all day,” I said, cringing. Perkins was a good man who had tolerated my shit for way too long, and he would continue to tolerate my shit for way longer because I had helped him in a big way a few years back. I hated abusing him, but I also hated waking up hungover every morning. Did that stop me from drinking? Balls no. “Probably be sick tomorrow, too, if I’m being honest.”
A pregnant silence ensued. “Listen, Hunter. You’re a good worker when you’re here, but I can’t keep allowing these absences.” He sighed through the phone. “Next time you get sick, schedule it a week in advance. These buildings don’t demo themselves.”
“Thanks.” He wished me the best, and we hung up, and I returned to Xander.
His coffee mug sat on the table in front of the recliner, but he stood near the back of the room, holding a picture of Callie and me. It was the only one I had left of us. We stood in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. Her dark hair tangled across her face as she smiled at the camera. I squinted into the sun and held her tight to me.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
After two years of searching for Callie’s killer, I had decided to give up and move outside of Sacramento, closer to Mel. I would never introduce myself to her, never allow anyone to see us together, but I could watch her from a distance. I could protect her. I couldn’t allow the people who stole Callie from me to steal my daughter, too.
“I didn’t tell anyone I left,” I said. “Never once used my magic or brought out my guns. She took Derek’s last name.” I scratched at my nose. “How did you find me?”
Xander set the photograph back on the mantle and turned to face me. “Seven years ago to the day,” he said.
“No games. Just tell me,” I said. “If you found me, they could have found me, too. They could have found her.”
He shook his head. “Mostly luck. I never stopped looking for you. Never stopped looking for Callie’s killer.” He glared at me as he spoke, insinuating that I had given up. “I’m not blaming you for leaving. I’m really not. But I have resources, Joe. I have connections, now. I tapped into them, followed a few hunches. That’s it. I know you. Or did you forget we killed together for a few years? I followed my gut, man—followed a trail no one else could follow… because I know you.”
I collapsed into the recliner and reached across to the table, exchanging his phone for my coffee. “Nothing has changed,” I told him. “Not a damn thing. Answer is still no and it always will be.”
Xander sat on the sofa. “How’s Mel?”
“You already know.” I sipped more coffee. “Convenient, don’t you think?”
“What’s that?”
“Seventh year to the day Callie’s been gone. That’s when you show up. When you find me?” I shook my head. “You forget, Xander, I used to do this shit for a living, too. Some things are hard to unlearn. How long have you known? How long have you followed me?”
He blew on his coffee and sipped. “Six months,” he said. “You’re getting sloppy. You didn’t notice our tails?”
I gritted my teeth. I hadn’t noticed, which made me uneasy. What else had I missed over the past few months? What dangers lurked that I had fallen complacent to? I fought a strong urge to call another ride share and head back to Derek’s house to sit around the corner and watch for danger.
“That’s not it,” Xander said. “You’ve become predictable. You get home from work, shower, then drive over and park your car at the corner to watch Derek’s house and drink until you pass out. Every night, man. You’ve fallen into a routine that has exposed Mel.”
I knew what he said was true, but I had ignored it, had shoved it back into my being. I couldn’t allow anything to happen to Mel, and that fear had driven me to sloppiness. I swallowed, and my face heated—not from the hangover, but from embarrassment. “You here to lecture me?” I asked, transmuting my embarrassment to anger the way Midas turned anything he touched to gold. “It’s been five years, man. You can’t just show up out of nowhere to punish me.”
Xander wiped his nose, then licked his lips. “I’m not here for that. You punish yourself enough as it is. I’m worried about you, Joe. You’re working a real job, like a real adult, calling your boss to apologize for missing a day. And part of me is proud of you for that. But what happened to finding Callie’s killer? To protecting Mel?”
He’d been dancing around the button, having finally just pressed it.
I roared up and threw my coffee mug against the far wall, where it shattered. Black liquid dripped down the white paint like mascara tears. “What the fuck do you think happened? They found Callie through me, through my magic! I was out with Mel, that’s the only reason we survived.” I laughed. “Everything I do is for her, to protect her! You think I’d be working demolition if I didn’t have to? You think I’d have given up on finding Callie’s killers? On using my magic? No, never. But I did it for Mel, so that my trail would go cold on those searching for me.” I panted for a second, allowing
