“This isn’t about the money,” I said. “Well, I mean, it is about the money, but that’s not the only thing it’s about. I think you and I would work well together, even if we don’t always agree.”
“I’m not so sure. . ”
“And,” I cut her off before she could protest any further. “That will keep the business in the family. For the, uh, future. You know.”
“You mean for your brother or sister?”
And all that scraping and fluttering in my head went dead still.
“Yeah,” I said, because it was too late to deny it now. “For that.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said again.
Somewhere in the center of my head, Dad jerked on something. It felt like he had a rope around my neck. He pulled so hard, I inhaled. Everything went black for a second, but I heard my own voice say, “I love you.”
“What?” Violet said.
Kevin choked on his coffee, then cleared his throat.
Oh, sweet hells.
I pushed against the wall of my dad blocking me from control of my own mouth. He didn’t fight me; maybe he was too weak to fight me. I stumbled back into my conscious mind like I’d missed the last stair. Which is to say, not very gracefully.
I stood, because it was time to get out of here before my dad did something worse.
“I’d love you to think it over,” I said.
Nice save. Go, me.
“Call me when you decide, and let me know when you want to meet with the lawyers.”
I pulled on my coat.
“Okay.” She sounded a little confused. “And you’ll tell me which self-defense instructor you choose.”
Kevin pointedly handed me the manila folder, which I shoved in my pocket.
“If I choose one,” I said.
“I’ll know if you don’t.”
“Not sure that I care,” I said with a smile. I tossed my share of the tab down on the table. “See you soon.”
“Good night, Allie.”
I strode away, but not before my Hound ears picked up Violet’s last comment. “I don’t think she understands the danger she’s in.”
And Kevin’s reply. “She will.”
Chapter Ten
I was restless, wanted to be on my feet, moving, thinking, doing. My apartment wasn’t exactly within walking distance; still, I walked a little while before catching a cab. Halfway to my apartment, I decided I wasn’t ready to go home yet. I asked the driver to drop me off about six blocks from my house and got out. I stood there on the sidewalk for a moment, trying to decide if I wanted to just walk home and let the cold, damp air clear my head, or if I wanted to go out for a while, get away. Maybe spend some time in the comfort of Get Mugged.
It didn’t take me long to decide. I wanted warmth, light, and a crowd around me. Get Mugged it was. I started down the hill. The air was bitter cold, the light of dawn hours off. Most of the bars were just getting going this time of night, but I wasn’t about to go wandering through dark alleys or unlit parking lots. I stuck to the streetlights, to the bus lines, and kept a good pace.
Just as my muscles were beginning to warm enough that I could really stretch into the walk, and I was actually a little more relaxed and a little less restless, I heard the sound of footfalls behind me.
Someone was following me.
I took a deep breath, searching for a scent.
The smell of blackberry burned down to a bitter, thick tar, the jarring scent of bubble gum and booze, and the dark heat of copper. The same smells from the Necromorph in the alley. The same smells from the job I Hounded for Stotts.
The wind shifted just enough to bring the smell closer, stronger. My heart skipped a couple beats.
That thing, that man-thing was here, on the streets. Stalking me.
Holy shit.
Panic drew delicate fingers through my stomach and legs, leaving behind a weak, watery sensation. I didn’t know how to defend myself against that thing. I didn’t think I could outrun it. Zayvion had been very clear that I should not throw magic at it.
, my dad whispered in my mind.
Holy hells, I had forgotten he was there. I don’t know how I had forgotten, since I was still pissed at him for taking over my mouth, but right now, I was glad he was with me.
How screwed up was that?
, he said again. Along with that came the memory of the butterscotch-and-rum spell Zayvion had thrown around us in the alley.
That was a great idea. Terrific, really. Camouflage had kept us hidden before I messed things up.
Only problem? I had no frickin’ idea how to cast that spell.
, Dad said a little louder, a little stronger, the presence of him growing bigger in my head.
And while, yes, warning bells went off in my head-I did not trust my father, had never trusted my father-that thing trotting between buildings behind me was possibly worse than my father. Maybe even probably.
Not by much, but the devil you know and all that.
, I thought at him.
I didn’t know that it mattered what kind of wall was behind me, but magic, especially spells I’ve never cast, can be tricky the first time. If Dad said I needed a good wall, I’d find a good wall.
I picked up the pace to a jog, falling into a rhythm of breathing that helped clear my mind. I didn’t know if that thing could smell fear or panic, but just to cover my bases, I decided I was not going to panic.
I jogged past plenty of buildings. How hard could it be to find a strong wall?
It was impossible.
All the buildings along this block were either separated by fences, or because of the slope in the hill, were too far above me.
There-a five-story stucco jobber with wide, fancy framed windows. Even better, the streetlamp poured enough light on the building that I should be able to get to the wall without stepping on homeless people or barging into the middle of a drug deal or something.
, my dad said.
The creature was gaining on me. I could hear it closer, louder every few yards I ran, and my dad was critiquing my choice of hiding places.
How fandamtastic was that?
