Women of the Otherworld 10.5 - Counterfeit Magic (3 page)

We moved into the office I share with Lucas, where the meeting could be broadcast louder on my speakerphone. As I listened, I sat at my desk, and reviewed Ava’s file. Adam stretched out on the divan, jotting notes and exchanging quips and observations with Savannah as she paced.

Ava insisted on retelling her whole story to Lucas. This recital was a lot more emotional. When she spoke of her brother, I could imagine her dabbing moist eyes. When she spoke of his disappearance, she choked up. Yet even in her grief, she managed to flirt outrageously.

She gushed about Lucas’s reputation. Simpered about how honored she’d be if he took her case.
Added a few extra heartfelt sobs in hopes that he’d come over and comfort her.
He didn’t, of course. His comfort was offered with words, and even those sounding stilted and formal.
Polite and sympathetic, but distant.
Which only made her try all the harder.

“Sounds like someone is hoping to pay her bill with an exchange of services,” Adam said.

Savannah snorted. “Her ego will take a beating if she tries.”

They laughed. I didn’t. It was insulting, having a woman
throw
herself at my husband when she knew I was in the next room.

“So it seems we have two avenues of investigation,” Adam said.
“The gambling debt and the fight club.
I’ll take the fight club and—”

“Excuse me?” Savannah strode over. “No offense, fire-boy, but you’re a one-trick pony. I’m a dual-purpose, ultra-charged spellcaster.”

“And an attractive young woman, which they like,” Adam said. “That’s why I was about to suggest you come with me.”

“Sorry.” She lifted his legs from the divan, sat down and let them fall across her lap.

As they bantered, I kept my gaze on my notes. Savannah has had a crush on Adam from the day they met, which wouldn’t be so bad, if she hadn’t been twelve at the time and he’d been twenty-three. If Adam had noticed, he’d given no sign of it, treating her like a little sister. I’d figured she’d grow out of it, and if she was going to have a teenage crush, Adam was as safe a bet as I could want—someone who’d treat her well, and leave her with a good impression of guys in general.

Except, well, maybe the impression Adam left was
too
good, one no boy her own age could live up to. At twenty-one, her infatuation has mellowed into a solid friendship, but I know she hopes more will come of it. As for Adam, if you’d asked me his feelings a year ago, I’d have said it was strictly friendship. Lately, though, I’ve caught hints that maybe something’s changed, something he isn’t quite aware of himself.

I don’t have a problem with the age difference. Maturity-wise, Adam has always been on a slow curve. There’s a part of me that wants to give things a push. But I know better. They’ll have to figure this out for themselves, and it may take a while.

* * * *

Once Lucas had everything he needed, he extricated himself from the meeting. Savannah was chomping at the bit to rescue him, but that would only make things worse, letting Ava think Lucas hadn’t ended their meeting of his own free will.

It didn’t help that he refused to commit to take her case. Eventually, he got her out of the building and joined us in our office, where I met him with a double-shot of espresso.

“Thank you,” he said.

“We still need toner,” Savannah said.
“Unless that meeting wore you out.”

A faint smile.
“No, but I think Ava Cookson was enough work for everyone today. I declare the work day officially over.”

“Is that a hint?” Savannah said.

“It is.”

“Grab your coat, Adam.” She stopped beside me. “We’re going for drinks, then a movie, so I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up.”

“You
buying?”
Adam said.

“We’ll expense it.”

They left. Lucas sipped his espresso until the stairwell door alarm clicked on,
then
he downed the rest and crossed to my chair.

Divvying up Duties

By the time we actually left the office, it was past six. We grabbed takeout and headed back to the house. Normally, I’d cook dinner, but after three days away, I couldn’t trust there’d be anything left in the fridge.

We hadn’t discussed Ava’s case yet. It could wait, and we were enjoying some quiet time together. It didn’t take long before conversation turned to another aspect of work. My Cabal visit. I gave him a rundown, focusing on the reason for his abrupt summons to Miami: a diplomatic situation.

A French Cabal—the
Moreaus
—had accused the Cortezes of poaching a shaman employee. Not true. The shaman had come to the Cortezes for a job and failed to disclose the fact he was already employed by the Moreau Cabal. When confronted, he claimed the
Moreaus
had blackmailed him into working for them, and he had proof.

In the past, Benicio would have returned the shaman to the
Moreaus
to avoid straining international relationships. But now he had to prove to Lucas that the Cortez Cabal could become the kind of organization he’d be comfortable leading, and that didn’t include handing over innocent supernaturals to be imprisoned and possibly killed.

“My advice was to negotiate with the
Moreaus
,” I said. “Give them
an
choice. Take the shaman back on a one-year contract, promising no mistreatment. Or give him to the Cortezes and accept a finder’s fee for training him.”

“Good idea,” Lucas said after finishing a bite of salmon.
“Excellent, actually.
I’d have been inclined to confront them with proof of blackmail and force them to drop the matter. Your solution is far more elegant.”

“Thank you.”

“My father agreed, I presume.”

“He did.”

He speared a baby potato, gaze on his plate. “And he had the backing of the board?”

When I didn’t answer, Lucas’s shoulders drooped.
A faint reaction, but noticeable, like the lines beside his mouth that seemed to deepen every time this happened.

“Who argued it?”

“Carlos. Or, I should say, several of the VPs disagreed and subtly conveyed their opinion to Carlos, who voiced it.”

“I suppose I should be glad he’s showing up for meetings.”

“And showing up sober.”

Lucas tried for a smile. The fact was
,
he’d be a whole lot happier if Carlos did still show up drunk or high. At least then he wouldn’t be a threat. But on his brothers’ deaths, Carlos had seen an opportunity to seize his birthright, which to him meant seizing all the power—and money—he could. Unfortunately, he was finding supporters in everyone who opposed Lucas and was pleased to have a straw man they could put forward in his place.

We ate in silence for a few minutes,
then
Lucas said, “I know those meetings couldn’t have been easy. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I survived.”

“Naturally, but I really think we should talk—”

“Tell me about your trip.”

When he hesitated, I thought I saw that sadness flash in his eyes again. Frustration, I decided. He didn’t like the situation, and having me dwell on it wasn’t going to help.

“Please,” I said.

Another hesitation, then he nodded. “The trial went well. Nothing unexpected, although there was a minor glitch when the client’s nerve wore thin and he began thinking perhaps he should admit to having set the fire, albeit accidentally…”

* * * *

We had a good night. Didn’t get much sleep, but it wouldn’t have been nearly so good a night if we had.

We got to work at nine, late for us. Lucas caught a ride in with me, which is rare—he usually rides his motorcycle, knowing one or both of us will be zipping off at some point during the day and two vehicles would likely be needed. We used to do most of the legwork together, but lately, well, lately it just seems more efficient to divide our resources.

Savannah drove in separately—on
her
bike. She has no excuse, spending most of her time in the office, but she likes her independence.
In some things, at least.

I’d texted Adam to say there would be a meeting at nine, and we met up with him and Savannah in the stairwell.

“So we’re taking the Cookson case?” Adam said.
“Time to divvy up duties?”

“It is,” I said as we moved into the meeting room. “We have two avenues to investigate—”

“I called dibs on the fight club.” He glanced at Savannah. “Sorry,
we
did.”

Lucas took a seat. “Actually, Paige and I are going to take that angle.”

Savannah sputtered a laugh. “Yeah, I know you can fight, Lucas.
But seriously?
Those guys will make you the minute you show up.”

Adam nodded. “According to the files, this club is notoriously anti-Cabal.”

“I planned to
effect
a disguise, naturally.”

“It won’t be enough,” Adam said. “They’re so worried about Cabal interference they probably have your photo tacked up in the office. And don’t tell me you’re going to stay in the background and let Paige fight because…” He looked at me, and the corners of his mouth twitched.
“Um, no.
Just no.”

“Thanks.” He was right. I could defend myself, but I was no fighter.

“Perhaps you have a point,” Lucas said. “But if you’ve read those files, then you know there are a few types of supernaturals they really don’t like in a ring. One is Exustio half-demons. An energy bolt spell is one thing; your powers inflict third-degree burns. As soon as they realized what you are, they’d throw you out.”

“Leaving one option for your fighter,” Savannah said.

I glanced at Lucas, who nodded, reluctantly.

“Yes, it’ll have to be you, Savannah,” I said. “But if Ava’s right and they like young women, having you show up with Adam will limit your potential. I should play manager.”

“I’ll accompany you and stay in the background,” Lucas said.

“Leaving Adam to check out the gambling lead and no one in the office?”

“I’ll take the gambling angle and Lucas can play secretary.” Adam caught our looks and sighed. “Or Lucas can follow the lead while I sit on my ass and look pretty.”

“Because you’re so good at it,” Savannah said.

Adam sighed again.

* * * *

Lucas didn’t seem thrilled by the division of duties. To be honest, I was surprised he’d suggested taking the fight club lead himself—he knew he couldn’t slip around the supernatural world as easily as he could five years ago. And accompanying Savannah and me? That made no sense at all.

Maybe he’d foreseen the next turn of events. Ava insisted on going with Lucas. When she’d been in San Francisco with her brother, she’d met his debtors. She couldn’t describe them or tell us where Jared met them, but she could take Lucas there and point them out.

So he was stuck with her. Annoying, but no reason to pawn her off on Adam and leave the office unmanned while he tagged along with Savannah and me. If I didn’t know Lucas better, I’d almost think he was actually worried about spending time with Ava Cookson.