Valhalla Beckons Page 8

  I stepped away from the wall of the coffee shop and waved at her, but regretted it as soon as I saw the expression on her face. Something was wrong.

  She stopped in front of me, red trench coat swirling around her legs at the abrupt motion.

  “My mother came to visit me last night,” Swift said, staring at me like the answers she wanted were written on my face.

  I choked on my matcha latte. “Oh?”

  “Yep,” Swift said harshly.

  “Did she, uh, threaten you?” I asked, my throat still burning from trying to inhale hot tea.

  “Oh no, nothing like that. She simply asked about the attack on Moira and offered me a job. Working for her.” Swift crossed her arms and glared at me.

  “Why are you looking at me like this is my fault?”

  Her cheeks flushed with anger and pink magic sparked from her eyes. “Why did you lie to me about what you were doing last night?”

  I opened my mouth, but couldn’t come up with another lie fast enough. She pulled out her phone and held it up, showing a message from Bootstrap. She’d asked him where I was, he’d told her I was with Viktor. The brat had even given her the address to the restaurant. He really needed to stop stalking me.

  I held up my hands, trying to placate her. “Viktor asked to meet with me alone, I needed to see what he wanted.”

  “And?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “He was trying to warn me about you and ––”

  “About me? What the hell does he know about me? Nothing.” She shoved her finger in my face. “Absolutely nothing.”

  I leaned away, talking a half-step back. “I know. He’s wrong. I told him as much.”

  She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Then why did you lie about it? Dammit, Blackwell, I thought we had learned to work as a team.”

  “I’m telling you now!”

  “Because I caught you.”

  “I was going to tell you, especially because of what Viktor finally told me.” Despite the fact that we were still alone, I wanted to draw the rune to cast a silencing spell around us. I thrust her coffee at her and did so quickly. This was the kind of accusation you couldn’t just talk about where someone might overhear. “Did your mother ask about any of your cases last night?”

  Swift’s brows pinched together in confusion. “No, not really. She asked how work was, but I don’t like talking about that kind of thing with her. The conversation was brief. She offered me the job, then left when I turned her down.”

  A little knot of worry unwound in my chest. I knew she’d turn her mother down, but hearing it dispelled the small seed of doubt Viktor had planted last night.

  “Viktor reviewed the tapes and confirmed Adam Johnson was being controlled by necromancy, but insists he’s never seen anything like it.” I scratched the back of my head, uncomfortable about the next part of things. “And the reason he doesn’t trust you is because you’re a Swift.”

  Her face darkened with anger and I held my hands up in surrender.

  “He’s wrong, okay? Just hear me out.”

  She sighed, but nodded. “Fine.”

  “Apparently, he hasn’t always been an upstanding citizen. He used to work for a drug ring, similar to what we’re dealing with if not the same one.”

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That is not what I expected.”

  “He worked his way up through their ranks, and then they got him his current job. As a coroner with the IMIB.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and waited for her to connect the dots.

  “Wait, the drug ring got him his job with the IMIB? That’s not…” Anger spread across her features.

  “Even the IMIB isn’t safe from corruption it appears.”

  “Who did he work for? Does he know?” she demanded, fingers twitching like she wanted to summon her mace.

  I nodded and took a deep breath to steel myself. “He has no proof, but he said the person that controls it all is your mother. He said that everyone ranked high enough in the organization knew that, but she was smart enough to not leave anyone a way to prove it.”

  A series of emotions flitted across my partner’s face before it settled on complete and utter rage. Her hands shook and magic whipped around her.

  I took a step back. “Lexi, you need to calm d––”

  “Do not tell me what to do,” she ground out.

  I cleared my throat and took another careful step back. I didn’t want to be within reach if she started swinging. “Okay.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. A muscle in her jaw twitched and she attempted to rein in her visceral reaction to the news. Her breaths slowed and her hands slowly unclenched. The magic receded and she tamped down on her magical signature until nothing was left, then opened her eyes. Even the normal pink glow was gone.

  “We have work to do. Let’s go see what evidence we can dig up,” she said, her voice perfectly calm and her expression neutral. It was terrifying.

  “Are you sure––”

  Her look quelled me and my teeth clicked as I snapped my jaw shut and nodded. “Patrice dug up some names for me. There’s one guy that knew Adam Johnson that we happen to have a warrant for. We need to haul him in for questioning.”

  She nodded. “Let’s go grab him.”

  I needed to talk to her about what I’d found in my pocket but decided that it would have to wait until this evening. She was too wound up right now for another mystery.

  Nineteen

  “IMIB! Stop!” Swift’s feet pounded against the concrete as she sprinted after the guy we had the warrant for.

  We’d thought he was human, but he definitely wasn’t. He was an unregistered shifter. And he looked like he needed a flea treatment. His skin was red and inflamed and the patchy hair on his head looked like it had been falling out in clumps.

  Patchy darted through an open doorway and I cursed whatever furry asshole changed him. He was headed down into what the locals had lovingly dubbed Infierno –– Hell in Spanish. It was the seediest, and most active, magical community outside of Moira.

  Where Moira was class and overpriced apartments, Infierno was guilty pleasures and overpriced alcoholic drinks. And that wasn’t even touching the gambling and fight rings.

  This was the last place I wanted to be chasing a suspect through. The people there weren’t exactly going to be helpful. No one cared for the IMIB in Infierno.

  Prosaic Las Vegas faded away as we ran down the long sloping tunnel that led through the underground city. It was dark –– in keeping with the aesthetic –– and crowded. This area was mostly known for its bars. Someone could come here to feel like they were living dangerously without the actual danger. A few prosaics even snuck in, always with a paranormal escort.

  Patchy shoved a few people out of his way with an enraged snarl. A drunk woman fell down, her drink flying from her hands and drenching the unlucky person next to her. There were angry shouts and some of them tried to follow Patchy.

  Swift ran around them but I was forced to charge through them. The bastard was getting too far ahead of us. I picked up my pace and started catching up to him and Swift. She was only a few paces behind him now. Her red trench coat snapped out behind her as she released her hold on her magical signature.

  The weight of it blasted through the crowd, parting it faster than we could have done with a shout. Patchy glanced over his shoulder in alarm and stumbled slightly. That was all the opportunity she needed to close the distance.

  She lunged at him, hitting him in a full-body tackle. They slammed into the ground. She grabbed his head and smashed it against the concrete once, ending his struggle abruptly.

  “You’re under arrest,” she snarled, pulling thick cuffs out from her waistband. “Stop resisting or I’ll break your arms off.”

  I slid to a stop next to them and helped her tighten the cuffs. As the magic and silver in them hit him, he went limp, his eyes rolling back in his head. His face was bloodied and his nose looked broken. She’d certainly
done a number on him. Luckily, he’d heal fast once he was safely in lock up and the cuffs could be removed.

  The crowd gathered around us were giving us dark looks and murmuring among themselves. I wanted to get out of here before they decided they were disgruntled enough to start more trouble.

  She shoved off him, angrily wiping some sweat from her brow. “Shitstain.”

  “Slippery shitstain.” I stood, brushing the grime off my suit. It was going to need a deep clean. “I’m going to call in a pickup so we don’t have to haul this guy back ourselves.”

  She glared down at him like she was considering kicking him or something. This was not like her. Sure, she went overboard a lot, but never like this. She hadn’t needed to slam his face into the concrete like that, and I didn’t like seeing her lose control like this. Patchy probably didn’t appreciate it either.

  “That arrest was a bit severe,” I said carefully.

  She turned on me, eyes flashing. “I don’t need you telling me how to do my job.”

  I’d tried to be understanding, but enough was enough. “Actually, right now I think you do.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but I continued, interrupting her.

  “I think you need to work off a little of this anger too. Let’s head back to the Manor. There’s something else I need your help on, and I need you clear-headed for it. This idiot can sit in jail overnight. We’ll interview him in the morning.”

  For a moment, I thought she was going to keep arguing, but she took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

  She turned and walked away. Shaking my head, I pulled out my phone and dialed the local IMIB office. They could handle getting this guy back to Moira where we could talk to him tomorrow.

  Twenty

  Her kick landed on my ribs, but I’d been expecting it. I spun around with a backfist, lessening the impact of the blow, but struck the arm she’d raised to block my counter-attack.

  “Woohoo! Kick him harder next time, Lexi!” Bootstrap shouted from the sidelines.

  Yui sat next to him eating popcorn –– though I had no idea where she had gotten it since I never bought the stuff –– and watching our sparring session with great enjoyment.

  I slipped past Swift’s next punch, parrying a kick with my shin and getting to the side of her. I faked an uppercut, then caught her in the face with an elbow. She had started out the fight distracted and angry, but now she was just tired, and it was showing.

  Her head rocked back but she didn’t even flinch from the blow to her face. She picked up the pace of her attacks, trying to force me back off the mat. I moved around her, cutting angles rather than moving in a straight line. Slowly but surely, I picked holes in her defenses.

  We’d agreed on absolutely no magic at the beginning of the sparring session and that gave me a slight edge over her. She was still freakishly strong but I had the longer reach and the weight advantage. Based on the way she was tiring out, she also depended on her magic when she fought. It was an easy trap to fall into, after all, when would we be without our magic? I’d had to learn how to deal with that though since my magic had been so unruly.

  She kicked out, almost catching me in the gut, but I turned just in time and slipped past the strike. I punched hard, throwing all my weight behind it, and landed a solid blow. Her head snapped back and blood gushed from her nose. She stumbled and I pressed my advantage, hitting her with two more fast punches, then sweeping her legs.

  Her feet flew out from underneath her and she hit the mat with a thud, the air whooshing out of her lungs with a wheeze. If I was an asshole, I’d have followed her down and really pushed things, but this was supposed to be a friendly match to work out her anger issues, not a beatdown.

  “You done being grumpy?” I asked, standing just out of reach of her legs in case she decided she wasn’t actually done.

  She rolled onto her side and pushed up with one hand, the other cradled under her bleeding nose. “I was until you said that,” she snapped, the anger in her voice dulled by the nasal whine from her swollen nose.

  I held out a hand. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, then you can pay up on that wager and cook dinner.”

  I wasn’t going to lie, I’d intended on letting her beat me up until she’d said the loser had to cook dinner. After that, it was game on.

  She rolled her eyes but accepted the help up.

  Yui appeared at my elbow, the popcorn mysteriously gone. “I can fix that if you’d like,” she said, gesturing at Swift’s nose.

  Swift narrowed her eyes at the kitsune but nodded, lowering her hand slightly.

  Yui reached out and said something softly under her breath. White tendrils of magic leaped from her fingertips to my partner’s face. With a soft snap and flash of light the swelling and blood vanished.

  “That felt weird,” Swift said, blinking rapidly as she carefully checked her nose for any remaining soreness.

  Yui shrugged and swept her long, black hair over her shoulder. “I want steak for dinner.”

  I rolled my eyes. Yui was always thinking about food. “I seriously need to start charging you rent.”

  “As your guardian, I am entitled to stay with you––”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said waving the tired, old argument away. I turned back to Swift. “There’s something I need to show you before dinner. Come to the study with me.”

  Bootstrap moved to follow us, but I glared at him. “Fine, have your secret conversations,” he muttered, trailing after Yui who was headed in the opposite direction.

  Swift followed me silently, having shifted to melancholy brooding now that the anger was gone.

  “Want to talk about it?” I asked.

  “Not right now.”

  We walked the rest of the way to my father’s study in silence. I’d stashed the mysterious note in the warded room, which I quickly retrieved. I motioned for Swift to join me at his desk and laid out the strange material with the unfamiliar rune on it.

  Her expression changed immediately and she leaned down to inspect it. “What is this?”

  “I’ve been asking myself the same question. Yesterday, when we were riding the Rune Rail, I thought someone bumped my arm but no one was there. Then, after talking to Viktor, I found this in my pocket. I didn’t put it there, but I think I might know who, or rather what, did.”

  “A valkyrie?” she asked, glancing up at me.

  I nodded. “That’s the only explanation I can think of, unless it was Viktor, but that doesn’t seem like his style. Besides, he told me everything he knew. It doesn’t make sense that he’d also slip me whatever this is.”

  She stood up and crossed her arms, staring at the strange rune with frustrated expression. “This seems almost familiar. At least parts of it do.”

  “I didn’t recognize any of it.”

  “Well, the composition is very old-fashioned. This style of constructing a rune hasn’t been used in centuries, not since before the Mage Wars at least. Even then it wasn’t popular. It’s more technical, and more precise, but most mages don’t require that kind of precision to cast a shield or silencing spell. This is meant for something where a mistake or variation would be disastrous.” She whirled around and scanned the bookshelves. “Aha, I thought I saw this last time I was here.”

  “Saw what?”

  She hurried over to the bookshelf and grabbed an old tome, double checking the title on the front before nodding. “This is a book on runes I studied when I first started working in Magical Artifacts. We had a case involving this enchanted object that would summon a unicorn whenever placed in direct moonlight. It was a huge mess, and I’ve never forgotten the runes on the blasted thing.”

  Dust billowed up from the tome as she set it down on the desk. The pages were yellowed with age but must have been preserved at some point or they’d have fallen apart with her rough handling. She flipped through it quickly before settling on a chapter near the back.

  “Just as I thought, this portion
of the rune here indicates this is a summoning spell,” she said, tapping the white square. “And this...this indicates a separate realm, or plane of existence, much like the place a warlock would summon from. It’s different from any I’ve seen before though.”

  I scratched the stubble on my jaw. “Do you have any idea what it would summon?”

  She shrugged. “No, but I can find out. Hopefully. We have to before we risk using the rune.”

  “I agree. I can be reckless, but I’m not risking summoning some kind of otherworldly monster into the middle of my house.”

  She cracked a smile at that comment. “That does sound like something you’d do though.”

  “I have you to keep me on the straight and narrow now,” I said with a grin. “I’m going to put this away so Bootstrap doesn’t find it and try to test it out.”

  His runehacking was useful, but I wasn’t sure how much was luck and how much was genius.

  She nodded and leaned back against the desk, some of her enthusiasm fading. I’d hoped this mystery would provide her with enough distraction from the accusation Viktor had made about her mother, but apparently that had been too much to hope for.

  When I got done putting the strange rune away, she seemed to have come to some kind of decision.

  She looked up at me, her hands clenched tightly together at her sides. “If what Viktor says is true, then I have to stop her, Logan. I can’t live with myself knowing my family is hurting people.”

  I nodded. “I’ll help you, you know that.”

  “I know.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence that felt a little too much like we were bonding. I jerked my head toward the door. “Time to get to the kitchen where you belong,” I said with a smirk.

  Her eyes flashed with irritation. “Watch it or your head is going to end up in the oven.”

  I laughed as I followed her out of the room. She was so easy to rile up.

  Twenty-One