A Risky Proposition (32 page)

Sunny frowned.  “Why didn’t she think finding the goblin would be of use?  I mean, we don’t have much to go on, and he supposedly
gave Balthus the unaligned soul, so I’d think he would at least be worth questioning.”

I nibbled my lip.  “I think she believes a goblin’s word would be useless against Balthus’ from a legal standpoint.  But I’m with you—I think any new info would help.  Not to mention that the infinity tattoo still seems pretty mysterious.”

“Did you get to see her do any major spell casting?” Lorien probed hopefully.

I grinned.  “Personally, I thought it was pretty amazing when she healed my toe and cleaned my clothes with a handful of dust.”

Lorien looked unimpressed.

“Okay, what else?” I mumbled, blowing a breath up into my bangs as I thought.  “Oh—she also did this neat trick where she made a pen and pad of paper appear out of thin air so she could write down…some notes.” 

I still wasn’t ready to admit to having the Hell Ride incantation.

Sunny raised her eyebrows above the rim of her coffee mug.  “Hey, that’s pretty cool,” she said when she finished swallowing.  “You didn’t tell me about that one last night.”

I bobbed my head.  “Yeah.  She doesn’t even seem to have to think about using magic; she just wants something and it’s there.”

Lorien’s wings drooped and I sighed.  “I’m not really sure what you’re expecting to hear, Lorien.  I mean, isn’t it amazing enough that she has a friggin’ disappearing cabin in the woods?”   

“I guess.”  She gave a disheartened shrug.  “It’s true that not many other mages would be able to maintain those types of protection and dislocation spells.  I just thought that maybe she’d have performed some more active magic while you were there.”

“How about when she transported us to the Seelie Police Station and I didn’t feel as if I was falling to my death.”  I gave her a pointed look. 

“One second we were standing in her kitchen, and the next we were at the station.  I think Galen—that’s Galena’s brother, who works the counter there,” I reminded Sunny, “about crapped his dwarf shorts when the great Lauringer appeared out of thin air in front of him.”

Sunny and I shared a snigger.

Lorien sputtered and began zipping up and down like a demented hummingbird bird.  “Lauringer went to the Seelie Police Station?” she finally managed in a shocked chirp.

“I was getting to that part,” I said smugly, “but you seemed so much more interested in how Lauringer acted than in the actual results of the meeting.”

“You got Lauringer to go to the Seelie Police Station with you?” she gurgled again.  “Lauringer hasn’t made a public appearance in decades!  Why didn’t Agent Sparrow tell me this?” she demanded.

I lifted my hands in the universal sign for cluelessness.  “When did you see him?”

“Earlier this morning.  I stopped by the station to see if he had any new developments to report and the first thing that came out of his mouth was that you’d met with Lauringer last night.  I was so upset you’d gone without me, I came straight here.”

I snorted.  “Well, there’s your answer.  You didn’t give him a chance to tell you anything else.”

“I…” she stammered defensively, then she puffed out an annoyed breath.  “Never mind.  Just tell me what happened!”

“She wanted to examine the unaligned souls.  She was particularly interested in the woman they found in the coma,” I began.

“Makes sense since she’s the only one they were able to connect one of the souls to,” Lorien interjected. 

I opened my mouth to continue and she pre-empted me with another observation.  I rolled my eyes at Sunny, who was sitting back and grinning into her second monster-sized mug of coffee.

“That was also the soul they found the strongest traces of magic on,” Lorien mused.  “Agent Sparrow had really hoped that would lead somewhere.  Did she find anything?”

“Actually no.”  My expression turned sober.  “She wore herself out looking for clues and by the time she was done she could barely stand.  But she didn’t find a thing.”

Lorien sank to her feet in the middle of the table.  “Nothing?” she asked, her wings drooping. 

“No, but there was another big death djinn bust last night.  Maybe they’ll find something on one of the unaligned souls this time,” I said optimistically.

“How could she not find anything?  She’s
Lauringer.
  She’s the most…”

“…powerful mage alive,” I finished for her.  “I know.  But apparently there was nothing to be found.  We’ll just have to keep looking.  Besides, if death djinns keep getting arresting for having unaligned souls, even old King Moab won’t be able to keep the blame off them forever, right?  That’s what Lauringer seemed to think, anyway.”

Lorien gave me a worried look.  “I hope you’re right, Sydney.”

The phone rang and I wrinkled my nose at the caller id—it was Cindy, and I hadn’t finished the morning banking update.  “Sorry Lorien, but I’ve got to get some work done.  You can hang out if you want.  It shouldn’t take too long.”

I pushed the button to answer the phone and Cindy started talking before I finished the word ‘hello’.

“I have an emergency.  Mickey has a big summer school exam this morning and his Hummer won’t start.  I need you to pick him up and take him to school.  The exam starts in forty-five minutes!”

I mouthed a silent curse.  “Give me his cell number and I’ll call him for directions,” I said, my placid tone belying my annoyance.

“Perfect, Sydney,” she breathed in relief.  “But hurry!”

I hung up and dialed the number.

“This is Mick,” drawled a male voice.

Mick?  Since when?  
“Uh, hey Mickey, this is Sydney.  Your Mom asked me to give you a ride to school.  Can you give me directions from the store to your house?”

“Sydney, long time no see.  How’s it goin’?” he asked, his unhurried manner ratcheting my level of annoyance up another notch.

“I’m fine, thank you Mickey.  But apparently if you want to pass the eleventh grade you need to be at school in forty minutes, so maybe we can talk in the car on the way?”

“No prob, Sydney.”  His nonchalance scraped against my last nerve.  He gave me the directions and was telling me that he was looking forward to seeing me when I hung up on him.

“Apparently I’ve got bus duty this morning,” I grumbled as I stalked toward my bedroom to throw on some jeans.

“Be sure to tell Mickey I said ‘hi’,” Sunny called after me.  The sounds that followed bore a suspicious resemblance to laughter.  But I must have been mistaken, since my friends would
never
find humor in my aggravation.

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I pulled my station wagon into a circular driveway behind Mickey’s massive black Hummer.  A sprawling, two-storey stucco and river-stone house rose to my right, surrounded by lush greenery.  I had never been to the Horowitz home before, and though it looked nice, I hoped to never have the occasion to come here again. 

I beeped the horn, and a few minutes later Mickey stepped out and waved at me.  He locked the front door, grinning as he sauntered toward the car in pressed slacks and a crisp polo shirt.

“Hey, Mickey,” I greeted as he got into the passenger seat.  “Lead the way.  I hope it doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get there.”  I began backing out of the driveway as soon as his door was shut.  “And buckle your seatbelt, please.”

“It’s not far,” he assured me as he fit the metal buckle into its slot.  “Sorry to put you to the trouble, Sydney.  Stupid Hummer wouldn’t start.  I wish the car manufacturers would make something guaranteed to never break down, don’t you?”

“It would be nice, but if they did, they’d run themselves out of business,” I said drily.

He made a face.  “Turn here,” he grumbled.

“So…are you ready for your big test?”

He gave me a blank look.

“The one that starts in ten minutes?” I prodded.

“Oh, right.  Yeah.  I’ve been studying real hard.”

“Any of your friends going to summer school with you?” I asked, trying to keep up the polite conversation.

“No…yeah…”  He seemed to be struggling with his answer and I gave him a questioning look. 

His face smoothed out and he smiled.  “Not really.  A couple of kids I used to be friends with, but I’ve decided not to hang out with them anymore.  It’s easier to get things done without your friends bugging you.”

I raised my eyebrows.  That didn’t sound like a normal sentiment for a seventeen-year-old.  When I was seventeen, my life revolved around my friends.  “Well, it’s good that you’re serious about passing summer school.  I’m sure when the regular school year starts you’ll have more time to relax with your friends again.”

After a moment of silence I glanced over at him.  I was startled to find his face an alarming shade of red.  His mouth worked soundlessly, his eyes pleading for help.  My foot couldn’t decide whether to brake or go faster.

“Mickey, are you alright?” I demanded, my mind racing for the location of the nearest hospital and coming up blank.  I’d have to call 911 from my cell phone if there was something really wrong with him.  Mickey made a choking noise and my panic escalated. 
Please, oh please, do not let anything happen to him—and especially not in my car!

“Mickey, what’s wrong?”  No answer.  He was still goggling at me with that silent, helpless expression.  Should I stop and try to give him mouth to mouth?  I was scrambling for my cell phone when he gasped and started coughing.

“Missed the turn,” he choked.

I gaped at him.  “Are you okay?  What happened?  You scared the crap out of me!”

He shrugged, recovering his composure with abnormal speed, while my pulse was still doing cartwheels.  “Spit went down the wrong way.”

I whipped the station wagon into the median to make a u-turn.  “That must have been some spitball,” I muttered in an incredulous tone.

“Turn left and it’s about a quarter mile up on the right,” Mickey recited calmly.

I did not get paid enough for this.
  I spotted the high-school and turned into the fenced parking lot.  A few kids made their way up the grass-lined sidewalk in small groups, all headed for the same double glass doors leading into a rambling, red brick building.  I pulled against the curb near the entrance and stopped. 

Mickey hesitated, his eyes following a couple of kids swathed in what appeared to be black rags. 

Their clothing might have looked like second hand goods, but I knew better.  This was an exclusive private school.  All these kids’ parents had enough cash to keep them in the most expensive fashions and driving the flashiest cars money could buy.  The parking lot looked more like a mini Fortune 500 than a summer school.

The raggedy pair consisted of a boy and a girl about Mickey’s age, and they were unmistakably part of the school’s Goth contingent.  By the way Mickey was looking at them, they were also his former friends.

“Those the kids you decided not to hang out with anymore?” I asked.

Mickey looked as if he was struggling to rein in his expression.  “Yeah,” he answered.  “We used to be really good friends.  But they got me into some stuff, and well…I probably wouldn’t be in trouble if I hadn’t listened to them, you know what I mean?”

My eyes softened.  “At least you realized it in time to do something about it.”

I wondered how hard it had been for him to make all the drastic changes he’d made recently.  I remembered the way he’d looked at the two sexy Latin guys outside the coffee shop, and realized how difficult it must be for him if he was trying to come to terms with being gay, as I now suspected. 

He gaze turned sad and my heart went out to him.  “Sometimes I just…” he began, his eyes going cloudy as they searched mine.  “Sometimes don’t you just wish you could go back in time and do things differently?”

I thought about the crazy turn my life had taken over the past several weeks.  If I’d just stayed home to nurse my broken heart that night, instead of going to the bar and meeting Balthus, I might have avoided the mess I was in now.  But I’d probably never have met Sparrow.  Or Lorien.  I
did
wish I had done things differently, but sometimes avoiding the bad things meant missing out on good things as well.  And maybe it would help Mickey to know that.  “I wi…”

I clamped my lips together, realizing in horror that I had let my guard down and almost wished aloud.  As that knowledge passed across my face, something akin to disappointment, laced with anger, passed across Mickey’s.  A sudden chill of shock and suspicion settled into the pit of my stomach as I stared at him. 

“Well, I guess I’d better go.”  His grin was mocking as he reached to open the car door, an alien flash of emerald burning in the depths of his blue-grey eyes.  I gasped softly in recognition. 

Emerald like Balthus’ eyes.  Emerald like King Moab’s eyes.  The emerald eyes of a death djinn.

I stared after him, frozen in disbelief, as he disappeared through the double doors of the brick building.

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