Women of the Otherworld 10.5 - Counterfeit Magic (7 page)

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad,” Tommy said. “If we just…”

“Told the truth?”

“Yeah.”

“Admitted we’ve had two fighters
die
in the last six months? One more who would have died if I didn’t keep an
epi
pen in the back room? We run a clean game here, Tommy. That’s always been our goal—
both
of ours—and it’s the only reason these kids come to us instead of flocking to the
Warners
. They get a whiff of this, and we’re through.”

Silence.
Then Tommy sighed. “You’re right. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.”

* * * *

We never did find out exactly what “taking care of it” meant, because right after that they started preparing to move Davy’s body, and we didn’t dare stick around. We hoped to follow them in the car, but they were gone before we made it back to the rental.

We drove to our hotel in silence. I was busy thinking and Savannah didn’t interrupt me. As we walked through the hotel parking lot, I turned my cell on and checked for messages.

“How many times did Lucas call?” she said.

“None.”

“Seriously?
Better check your phone, ’cause I’m pretty sure your battery’s dead.”

“It isn’t.”

“Huh.” She pushed the door open for me.
“Must be busy fending off Ava, then.
Probably praying
you’ll
call and rescue him.”

I smiled.
“Probably.”

I phoned Lucas from the elevator. It rang through to voice mail. I left a message.

“So, do I get your theory now?” Savannah said as we walked into our room. “Or can I give you mine first?”

I tugged off my shoes and sat on the edge of my bed. “Go for it.”

“Okay, so apparently Ava and her brother weren’t as discreet as they thought.
Big surprise there.
The
Gallante
brothers suspected they’d cheated. After Jared leaves, they go after him, kill him,
toss
his body in the bay. One guy
dies,
no big deal. But then a second guy has an allergic reaction or something and almost dies. And now a third guy really
does
die, and the
Gallantes
realize they’re in deep shit—with Davy dead, someone might find out about Jared and link them to his murder. So they need to hide Davy’s body.”

“One problem.
They said the first death was a fighter. That couldn’t be Jared.”

“Not necessarily. After Jared won some of the money he owed, maybe he figured entering the ring would be an easy way to win the rest. Tommy fights, so obviously they accept challengers without powers. Jared just says he’s from a supernatural family, and they let him in.”

“Possible…”

“But you doubt it.”

I tugged pins from my hair. “First, I don’t think Jared would jump into the ring so fast, not when he made easy money from betting. Second, if the
Gallantes
killed him, it was accidental. Neither strikes me as a cold-blooded murderer. Tommy could have roughed him up to teach him a lesson and he died of his injuries. But that doesn’t explain the first fighter’s death.” I set the pins on the nightstand. “So either you’re right about Jared fighting…”

“Or we have two completely separate cases.”

* * * *

We were getting ready for bed when Savannah caught me checking my phone.

“You know why he isn’t calling, right?”

My stomach did a strange little clench. “No.”

She flopped onto the bed. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you. Spoil the surprise.” When I gave her a blank look, she sighed. “My God, Paige, you’d think after eight years with the guy you’d have this figured out by now. He’s in San Francisco, right?
Only an hour away?
He’s coming over. Probably has a room reserved already, champagne chilling.
A nice romantic getaway.
Plus
an
excuse to bolt from Airhead Ava, which is a huge bonus.”

“Did he say he was coming?”

“No.”

“Did you tell him where we were staying?”

That gave her pause. “Well, no, but… Okay, maybe he isn’t coming tonight, but he will tomorrow, after he casually asks about our hotel.”

I glanced at my phone.

“For God’s sake, Paige.
Just call him already. He’s probably trapped. You know Lucas. He’s not going to tell Ava to get lost so he can phone you back. Give him the excuse.”

I nodded and called. On the second ring, someone picked up. Only it wasn’t Lucas.

“Lucas Cortez’s phone,” Ava chirped. “How may I direct your call?”

She sounded drunk. Music boomed in the background. Annoyance darted through me. I felt… I wasn’t sure what I felt, but there was an extra snap to my voice when I asked to speak to Lucas. She passed the phone over, giggling as Lucas said something I didn’t catch.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“Paige.” He sounded relieved.
“Just a moment.”

He murmured something to Ava. She twittered that she’d get him a refill. The music receded as he moved to a quieter spot.

“You sound like you’re in a bar.”

“Hmm.”

His tone suggested it wasn’t by choice. He went on to say he’d gotten my message and had been trying to get away to return my call before I went to bed.

We talked about the case. He agreed with my theories. His own leads weren’t nearly as promising.

“Chasing gambling debts is rather mundane, particularly when they don’t seem to be leading anywhere,” he said.

“I bet.”

There was a pause.
Probably looking around, wondering when Ava was going to show up.
I waited. After a moment, he cleared his throat and said, “I suppose that any lead should be followed to its end.”

“Unfortunately.”
I remembered what Savannah had said. “And if we don’t finish ours tomorrow, I could always swing by there. It’s not much of a drive.”

“To San Francisco, no.
To L.A., yes.”

“L.A.?”

“It appears that’s where the loan sharks are based. They have a hangout here, which is where Ava met them with Jared, but they’re back in Los Angeles now. If I continue on this lead, I’ll need to go there tomorrow, which means notifying Sean, so he can let his family know I’m in town.”

Sean Nast was Savannah’s half-brother and heir to the Nast Cabal, based in Los Angeles. Now that Lucas officially did some work for the Cortezes, he needed to notify other Cabals if he’d be in their territory.

“Travel has gotten a whole lot more complicated, hasn’t it?” I said.

“Among other things.
So, while I would love to see you tomorrow night, it won’t work out.”

“Oh.”

I let the silence hang. He could come here tonight. There was still time. Just ask where I was staying… I shook off the thought. That was silly.
Selfish, too.
He had leads to follow and couldn’t spend half the night commuting to see me.

We talked a while longer,
then
I hung up. When I looked over at Savannah, she was watching me. She said nothing until I crawled into bed, then, “Are you guys okay?”

“Sure.” I must not have sounded convincing enough because worry clouded her eyes. “We’re fine, Savannah.”

She watched me for a few more seconds,
then
turned off the light.

* * * *

I was disappointed that Lucas wasn’t coming, but I had to be careful around Savannah. Even the hint of trouble between Lucas and me brought out a side of her we didn’t see very often. A vulnerable side, a little girl who’d lost her beloved mother and hadn’t known her father, then got a second chance at a family with us. No matter how often we’d told her, when she was younger, that our little spats meant nothing—and they certainly
were
nothing compared to the knockdown, blowout fights our friends had—she felt threatened and she got nervous. Even now that she was an adult, that hadn’t changed.

But Lucas and I were fine.
Just fine.

I rolled onto my stomach, crossed my arms under my chin and stared at the headboard.

We were fine, weren’t we?

Yes, my issues with the Cabal were gnawing holes in my self-esteem, but I was being careful not to let that spill into my relationship with Lucas. He was right to help his father with the Cabal. I believed in that and I believed in him, and I wanted to fully support him, which meant keeping my problems to
myself
.

Whatever external issues I was dealing with, I was fine with Lucas.
But what about him?
Was he fine with me?

Savannah was right. Sneaking down here for a romantic surprise was just the kind of thing he used to do.
Before his brothers died.
Before the Cabal moved into our lives.

He would have called, too. Texted me, at least, ostensibly to get updates on the case, but really just to connect. Why hadn’t he done that today?

When was the last time he
had
done that?

Had he really been trapped with Ava, unable to return my call? Or had I moved to the bottom of the priority list?
Just his wife.
He’d call me back when he could.
After he was done having a few drinks with a beautiful young blonde with a damsel-in-distress complex.

I silently laughed at the thought.
Um, no.
Not Lucas.

Still, while I knew no young blonde could tempt him to
stray,
I could see how the “damsel-in-distress” part might appeal to a deeper need. Lucas liked saving people. That’s how we’d met. He’d come to rescue Savannah and me from the Nast Cabal, and found two very unappreciative damsels. As a client, I’d been less than satisfactory. As a lover, I’d been exactly what he wanted—a woman who could look after herself, and was more interested helping him
rescue
others than in being rescued herself.

And yet, maybe what he needed eight years ago wasn’t necessarily what he needed today. Maybe
I
wasn’t what he needed today.

So what he needed was a ditzy girl barely older than Savannah?
Someone to make him feel big and strong?

I shook my head and thumped my face onto the pillow. Now I was being stupid.
And insulting to Lucas.
If he felt the need to offset the ethical challenges of working for a Cabal, he’d get his confidence boost through work, not pretty girls.

There was an issue here I’d been ignoring, though. I wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with the new semi-alliance with the Cortez Cabal. I wasn’t the only one struggling to find a balance. But the fight I focused on was my own.

I was feeling put out because he hadn’t planned any romantic interludes in a while? Why did
he
need to plan them? That was incredibly sexist of me.

I crept out of bed, opened my laptop and started exploring a few ideas of my own.

Under New Management

The next morning, Savannah fired me as her manager and made an appointment to interview my replacement. I’d be a lot more hurt about that if it hadn’t been my idea. Still, I will admit to being a little miffed at how quickly the real ones had swooped down after her match, whispering—in front of me—that she seemed to be in need of better management.