Honorless Read online

  Lopez’s jaw tightened. “Sometimes I’m tempted to just go and get him out of there.”

  Mayhem magic shifted under my skin at the suggestion. A strange, foreign need to act bloomed at the back of my mind. I knew I wanted to bust him out of there, but what I was feeling was something else entirely.

  Swift gave me an odd look, as if to ask if I was okay, but I gently shook my head. Now wasn’t the time.

  “Did you find out anything else on that mage you picked up yesterday? The one with the strange weapon?” Swift asked, changing the topic quickly.

  “Oh, yes.” Lopez pulled out her phone and sent some files to both of us. “This is everything we had on that case. He’s claiming he bought it from a shifter pack that runs a bar in a rough area in London. We haven’t dug into that though, since we were just after him for a murder and have that sorted out. We did set up surveillance though and found something you might be interested in. I seem to remember you two talking about this guy.”

  Swift opened the surveillance video. A tall man with a beer belly walked toward a bar. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. I instantly recognized his smug face. It was Kevin Jacobs, the alpha we had tried — and failed — to arrest in Las Vegas.

  “What is he doing in London?” Swift exclaimed, practically coming out of her chair.

  “Bloody good question.”

  Lopez’s phone buzzed. She typed a quick reply and reached for the door. “Let me know if you need anything else. I have to run.”

  Swift nodded absently, still staring at the surveillance footage. “Thanks again.”

  Once the door shut behind her, I cast a quick muffling rune. I didn’t want the rest of this conversation to be overheard by whatever listening devices they likely had in here.

  Swift looked up as the magic rolled over her. “What?”

  “How connected do you think these cases really are?”

  She waggled her hand side to side. “It’s tenuous. I plan on talking to Jacobs first, then we can figure out how they’re connected. There is one thing. The bar Jacobs is at in this video and where the mage was picked up is owned by a subsidiary of Juno Corp.”

  Juno Corp was the same company that had employed prosaics, like Adam Johnson who had exploded all over the interrogation room, to smuggle magical drugs. Thanks to Viktor, we knew Lady Swift controlled that company, and ultimately the drug ring, but we couldn’t prove it. Yet.

  “We’re going to end up losing this murder case too if we’re not careful. They took the drug ring away from us because we got too close to something. Hell, they arrested Bradley after we argued to keep it.” I leaned back in my chair and stared up at the ceiling. “That could have been the tipping point. It could be our fault.”

  She exhaled sharply, brows pinched together in irritation. “Maybe, maybe not. I didn’t think that’d be enough to stop you though. We can do this under the radar if needed.”

  “Hiroji once told me that nothing I did for the IMIB made a difference.” I sat up straight, curling my hand into a fist to resist the urge to punch through the table. “Maybe he was right.”

  Swift leaned toward me, eyes flashing with determination. “If you’re giving up, then you need to tell me right now.”

  “I’m not.” I looked away and scratched my jaw. “There’s just a lot working against us right now. This case is starting to feel like a distraction.”

  “Stop having a pity party. I’m mad too, but I’m not giving up. We’ll find a way to bring them to their knees.” She grabbed her tablet and tucked it under her arm as she stood. “This case is another chance to find out the truth, and a chance to catch someone that got away. You with me, or not?”

  I didn’t like it, and this wouldn’t be easy, but she was right. Taking a deep breath, I stood. “Yes.”

  “According to the surveillance notes, Kevin Jacobs has been at the same bar the last two nights, and he’ll likely be there again. He might be looking for our thief too.”

  “Guess we better find him first.” I canceled the muffling rune and followed her out. “Want to grab some coffee?”

  She nodded and we veered away from our desks and headed down a different hallway. They’d stuffed the IMIB agents into a back corner. Out of sight and out of the way. And a full five minute walk to get coffee.

  Rounding the corner, we almost ran into a magister — one of three who were leading a group through the halls. We stepped to the side, hugging the wall to give them space.

  I nodded my head, half in greeting, half in apology. It wasn’t returned. Assholes. I started to move on, but my vision stuttered over a figure near the back of the group. Hiroji. I froze in place.

  As Hiroji walked past, our eyes met for less than a second. He gave no indication that he recognized me, but I had no doubt he had. It was almost enough of a distraction to miss the person next to him. Alberto Bianchi clapped a hand on Hiroji’s back as they spoke as if they were old friends.

  Anger unfurled in me, whipping around like a hurricane. Once again, he was siding with the enemy.

  Swift yanked me backward before I realized I was trying to follow them. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “Why is he here?”

  “One of many questions we need an answer to.”

  Six

  Moonlight reflected off the Thames as we strolled towards the bar, looking for all the world like a couple on a date. Skyscrapers battled with sprawling brick buildings in Tower Hamlets. Everything was suffocatingly close here. Even the path that led along the river — newly built after magetech had helped clean out the sewage and pollution — felt close to tipping over into the water.

  Blaring music echoed off the concrete from an open apartment window above us. The aggressive pulse of the music served as a kind of warning: we don’t welcome people here.

  Swift glanced behind us. “I hope Jacobs shows tonight. I’m still pissed that mangy bastard got away. I won’t be underestimating him this time.”

  The last time we’d seen Kevin Jacobs, he’d been living with some roaches in an apartment in Las Vegas. Considering his distaste for Moira, London was the last place I’d expected to see him crop up since it required a trip on the Rune Rail. He had to be here for a reason.

  Connecting him to our case was a stretch. But he had been seen at the same bar as the mage Lopez picked up. The bar was a hotspot for drug dealing and the sale of other black market items — like the magical artifacts at the center of the murder. Jacobs might know something about it, and he might not. I cared more about what he knew about a certain drug ring connected to Lady Swift than I did about what he could give us on the murder, but it was a good excuse to bring him in.

  “He’s been there the last two nights. Odds are good we’ll catch him tonight.” I slung an arm around her shoulders. “Just don’t pancake him.”

  She elbowed me in the ribs. “I’m not the one having issues controlling myself lately.”

  “I have yet to kill anyone that didn’t deserve it.”

  “Neither have I,” she said with a firm shove, knocking me to the side. “That looks like our place.”

  A crowd milled around a squat warehouse, now converted into a pub. More people were going in than leaving, but the ones that left lingered on the street and sidewalk. Little clumps of people circled around each other, some of them shouting challenges across the way.

  Magic pulsed out of all of them. This wasn’t a prosaic area. It also wasn’t an area for manners. The people here wore their magical signature openly, like a gun on their hip. We’d stand out just for keeping ours under wraps.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Swift asked.

  “Maybe, just can’t let out too much or we’ll be even more obvious,” I said, surveying the area warily.

  “Nah, we’ll blend right in with you wearing that jacket,” she said, pressing her lips together to suppress a smile as she began to unfurl her magical signature.

  “Hey, a leather jacket is a classic. This one is custom.”
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  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  We took our place at the back of the line. It moved fairly quickly. This didn’t appear to be the type of place that was picky about clientele. The bouncer at the door didn’t even ask us for an ID. Once we produced the the cover charge, we were waved inside, though, it was higher for us than it had been for the prior guests. They really didn’t like strangers here.

  If the outside of this pub had been rough, the inside was an ill-conceived disaster. The floor was sticky and the whole place reeked of sour ale. I wasn’t sure how shifters stood this place, but there were a ton of them here.

  To the left of the long bar, a creaky staircase with a half-broken banister rose steeply up to the second floor. Mismatched tables with even more mismatched chairs were scattered throughout the open space.

  Swift headed straight for the bar. I trailed after her, not eager to drink anything this place had to offer. As she ordered two beers, I scanned the room. A few patrons eyed us suspiciously, but most were too wrapped up in their own business to pay two strangers any attention.

  A glass full of a pale amber beer appeared in front of me. “I splurged on their most expensive beer on tap. A Carling.”

  I gave Swift a scathing look as I accepted my drink. “On tap, my ass. They poured this out of a can, and should have poured it down the drain.”

  She laughed and clapped me on the back. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Like hell it isn’t.”

  “You are way too picky.” She rolled her eyes, then nodded toward the staircase. “Want to head up?”

  “Sure.”

  We waded back through the tables and climbed the staircase. It was even shakier than it had appeared. We made it to the top just fine though, ascending into a cloud of smoke. The scent of tobacco was tinged with something stronger — the sort of thing shifters needed to smoke in order to get stoned. Without a little magical help, the high wouldn’t last longer than a few minutes.

  I scanned the room for exits, quickly spotting two sets of doors, both of which led to a balcony that wrapped around the side and halfway round the back of the pub. It was good to know the way out of a place like this. Fighting in close quarters without my katana would likely prove disastrous. I might have gotten away with a little chaos and destruction while Bradley was my boss, but I knew the Mage’s Guild would take any excuse to fire me.

  Swift hopped up onto a stool near the wall. We were a few feet back from the banister, but still had a good view of the entrance and the pub itself.

  I set my lager on the table, uninterested in actually drinking the stuff. A breeze picked up behind us, clearing out a little of the smoke. “What time does our friend normally show up?”

  “Just after eleven.”

  I glanced at the time. He should be here any minute then.

  Swift took a long drink, then set down her glass. “I was starting to miss this.”

  “Shady pubs with bad drinks?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “No. Normal case work.” She lifted one shoulder. “The last few cases have been a bit of a pain in the ass. I much prefer robberies and normal murders.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You know, I have to agree. Used to be the people trying to kill me were mobsters and mercenaries, not…” I pointed vaguely upward. “They were a lot easier to deal with.”

  “I think I even preferred my parents trying to kill me,” Swift said with a bemused look. “I—” she stopped abruptly and leaned forward, her attention down toward the front door.

  A man who looked vaguely familiar walked in, followed by none other than Kevin Jacobs and another werewolf. They didn’t get far before two burly men stepped into their path. The hairier of the two held out a hand toward Jacobs. The werewolf alpha sneered at him, and for a moment I thought he might snub him. Instead, he shook the man’s hand once.

  The group headed toward the back of the pub, disappearing through a back door guarded by a stout woman with bleached blonde hair. Her magical signature was easy to pick out even from up here. It was stronger than most in the pub.

  “Think they’ll let us back there?” Swift asked dryly.

  “No, but I do have an idea.” I nodded for her to follow me.

  We picked our way through the crowd and emerged onto the outside balcony. I took a deep breath of the fresh air, thankful to be outside.

  After making sure no one was watching us, I leaned over the edge, searching for any sign of a back entrance into the pub. Sure enough, there was a back way in. One door on the ground floor, and another at the top of a metal staircase.

  “I’m going to drop over the side here and go in one of the back entrances. Stay here and keep an eye out. I don’t think anyone up here is going to notice if we’re careful,” I whispered, eyeing the increasingly intoxicated crowd.

  Swift pursed her lips thoughtfully, then nodded. “Go. Be careful. We need to know why he’s here before we grab him.”

  “I’m always careful,” I said with a cheeky grin. Before she could respond, I stepped over the railing and dropped to the ground.

  My feet hit the concrete with a quiet thump. I held perfectly still for a moment, letting my eyes adjust. I’d landed by a dumpster out of sight of the street. There was no one back here that I could see or hear. I pulled my magical signature tightly back into my core. It wouldn’t do to sneak around back here while broadcasting my presence to anyone magical in a twenty foot radius.

  I crept along the side of the building as quietly as I could. A shifter would be able to hear me, but I was more concerned about magical detection than a shifter picking my footsteps out amidst the mess of noise from the bar and the street.

  The door on the ground level was almost dead center in the back of the building. I pressed my ear to it and heard laughter, the clink of glass on glass, and running water. Sounded like the kitchen. I eyed the metal staircase. If they weren’t up there, then I’d have to find a way to get through the kitchen without being stopped, which might be impossible.

  I glanced back at Swift, who was leaning casually against the banister, her back to me. It was now or never.

  The metal staircase was sturdier than I’d expected, letting me hurry up it without too much noise. I paused for a moment by the door, listening for anyone inside. Someone grunted and shuffled, then the door creaked slightly. They must be leaning against it.

  I stepped slowly back, ready to retreat and call it a loss when I heard a muffled argument. A shuttered window a few feet to the left of the staircase seemed to be the source.

  The alley behind the pub remained empty, so there really was no reason not to do this. I swung my legs over the metal railing and found an uneven brick to get a grip on, then began making my way bit by bit toward the window. The ledge that separated the first and second stories made it much easier.

  As I drew nearer to the window, the argument became more clear.

  “You aren’t getting a fucking cent until I have it in my hand.”

  A chair slid back. “Watch your tone when you’re talking to the boss, you wanker,” another man said with a fairly pronounced cockney accent.

  “You’ve had over a week to track down the brat that ran off with my shit. Where is he?” Jacobs demanded with a snarl.

  I got close enough to the window to peek in. It was covered by a half-broken wooden shutter. It drooped on the hinges, giving me a small gap to look through.

  Jacobs sat across from one of the burly men with his pack behind him. There were at least six, maybe seven, of them crammed into the tiny room. They all had their proverbial hackles up.

  “That’s a good question, innit?” one of the burly men said. “Starting to think someone crossed us both. A brat like that shouldn’t be able to disappear this good in my city. Either he got out, or he’s laying low. He’d need help for either.”

  “This job was supposed to be easy, that’s why it was trusted to small timers like you. That was my mistake.” The floor creaked as Jaco
bs rose to his feet, his eyes glinting red in the dim lighting of the room. “It seems you can’t fix this mess, so I will.”

  They moved in a blur. The entire pack attacked as one, their snarls and the sound of tearing flesh filled the air.

  “Hey! What are you—”

  I almost lost my grip on the brick as I turned to see who was shouting, only to find them face down in the alley. Swift stood over the man holding a chunk of concrete.

  Red eyes turned toward the window, focusing on my face through the narrow slats.

  “Shit.” I shoved off the building and dropped to the ground, landing awkwardly in a crouch. “They just attacked the other pack. And spotted me at the window.”

  “Shit,” Swift said, echoing my feelings on the matter. She dropped the chunk of concrete. “We can arrest them for murder though. That makes it simpler.”

  Before I could continue the discussion, a hulking form burst through the window and skidded to a stop in the narrow alley. Fully shifted, the werewolf stood at least eight feet high. Instead of being lanky, as was usual for his kind, solid muscle rippled under his skin.

  We’d underestimated Jacobs once before. I didn’t intend on doing so again.

  Seven

  Another werewolf dropped out of the window, casually tossing aside an arm that clearly didn’t belong to them. Someone was having a very bad day.

  Magic flared hot behind me as Swift summoned her mace. “One more behind us.”

  Jacobs took another step forward, lips curling over his teeth. “I remember the two of you. You failed to catch us once before,” he rasped, his wolfish face distorted with a mocking grin. “What makes you think this time is going to be any different?”

  I lifted my hands, letting mayhem magic leak from my fingers. The pure black magic extended out like claws. “I’m feeling a little more myself today.”

  “Your magic doesn’t scare me, mage.” He lifted his wrist, drawing my attention to a metal band clasped around it. I did not remember that from last time.