I brushed against the moped as we squeezed into the small space between all her equipment, and something flicked against my arm with a scaly swipe. I clamped my mouth shut before I could yelp in surprise, but Ms. Super Hacker here must have noticed.
“Don’t mind Freddie,” she said briskly, and plopped into a massive leather chair with an arched back that looked more suited to a super villain than a hero. I squinted at the moped and made out a hunched form with scales that blended into the black seat and the gray walls.
She had a pet chameleon. Named Freddie. Right. I should have brought Pickle along for a playdate.
The hacker chugged from an energy drink sitting on the workspace in front of her and waggled her fingers over one of her three keyboards. This one had a green glow around the elevated keys. She glanced up at Ruse with a grin. “What can I do for you tonight?”
The incubus obviously didn’t need to do any more charming. He propped himself in front of the farthest screen and gave her a languidly warm smile in return. “It might be a little tricky, but I’m sure you’re up to the task. We can’t have anyone noticing what you were digging into, though. Our lives could be at stake.”
The woman’s expression turned more solemn. She nodded briskly. “You can count on me. I’d give my own life before I let those I fight for come to harm.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Ruse said wryly. “We have reason to believe there are people in this city looking to purchase supernatural beings of particular power, as well as hiring mercenaries of some sort for security details. We’d also like to check for any mentions of activity around a construction site last night.”
He gave her the address and a few other details that might help narrow down her search, and she dove into the world wide web as enthusiastically as if it were the Fortress of Solitude. The glow of the screens turned her pale face almost luminescent.
There didn’t appear to be anything for me to do here. Of course, it wasn’t as if Omen was contributing in some brilliant way either. He drifted over to the display shelves, running his finger over what looked like a ray-gun and then lifting a katana to study the arc of its blade.
“Hmm,” Ms. Super Hacker said, more to herself than to us. “This could be—oops, no, I didn’t need to see that many boobs all on one lady… What about—oh, that’s a shipment of counterfeit plushies. Hmm… Yikes. ‘Seeing you waiting at the bus stop, I couldn’t help succumbing to the radiation of your smile’—nope, definitely not, lots of luck with that missed connection, weirdo. Hey, this is an interesting thread.”
She leaned even closer to the screen, as if she might climb right into it in another minute or two. I ambled a little closer, but she was opening and swiping away windows too fast for me to make out much of what she’d unearthed.
Omen was still exploring her display cases with a rustle here and a clink there. I glanced around the rest of the room, searching for an opportunity to show I was more than dead weight. A stack of ramen packages sat on a little shelving unit in front of the moped. Maybe I could offer to cook her up a snack?
Wait, was I reading that right? She had… barbeque octopus balls flavor. And let’s not forget the evergreen classic, mocha cheddar corn. Where the hell had she picked up those? More importantly—I averted my face so she wouldn’t see me wrinkle my nose—why?
She tapped away at the keyboard some more with a rattle like machine-gun fire. I turned to examine the arsenal Omen had found so fascinating—just as he swiveled away from the cases with a metallic flash.
The curved dagger he’d picked up sliced across my bare forearm. A stinging pain sprung up along the line he’d carved. I did yelp then, yanking my arm back toward me so fast a fresh pang echoed through my other shoulder with its bandaged wound. Blood welled along the cut.
Omen swiveled the weapon in his hand with a practiced grace and set it back on the shelf. “I didn’t see you there,” he said, in the least apologetic-sounding apology ever, and grabbed my hand to yank my injured arm into one of the streams of light. “Let’s see the damage.”
Ruse had straightened up, eyeing Omen warily and me with a warmer concern. “We can’t have you carving up our mortal. Are you all right, Miss Blaze?”
“It isn’t much more than a scratch,” I had to admit, but the pain was still nibbling across my skin with a similar sensation to the prick of Pickle’s claws. Omen was studying the wound as if he thought he’d find the meaning of life in the slow seeping of my blood. An uneasy quiver raced down my spine.
Had that really been an accident, or had it been some kind of test to see my reaction? If it was a test, what in Waldo’s name was he looking for?
And had I passed?
Our superhero had glanced up. Seeing my arm, she turned slightly green. She jerked her gaze away, her balance wobbling in her seat.
Fainting at the sight of a tiny bit of blood—not a great quality in a caped avenger.
“There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” she said in a tight voice, waving toward a door in the far corner. Ruse hustled over there while Omen raised my arm to catch the light better. He was frowning as if I’d managed to disappoint him somehow. Had he expected me to produce skin of steel?
Whatever he’d intended, he definitely didn’t look remotely worried about my well-being. As Ruse returned, brandishing an adhesive bandage, my stomach knotted. Omen dropped my hand and stepped away, all trace of emotion vanishing.
I couldn’t trust him, clearly—couldn’t rely on him to care whether he chopped my arm in two. And as long as Bossypants held me in such contempt, I couldn’t totally count on my trio either. As much as they’d supported me, they still followed his orders. They’d never leave me in danger on purpose, but all it would take was one risky situation where they couldn’t get to me fast enough because he’d occupied them elsewhere, and my ass would be kaput.
As long as the shadowkind quartet were the only people at my back, at least. Vivi was coming home—and maybe I should start thinking about what other allies I could round up who’d follow my lead more than Omen’s.
Ms. Super Hacker must have recovered from her blood-induced queasiness. She let out a cry of victory and drummed her hands on the console in front of her.
“I’ve got something. Someone’s set up an exchange to happen in just a couple of days—potent creature of unusual inclinations. Isn’t that exactly what you were looking for?”
A hint of a smile curled Omen’s lips, but I couldn’t say I found it reassuring. “I believe it is. Let’s hear the full story.”
3
Sorsha
I was stumbling through the dark hallway of a house. Our house, the one Luna had rented the first floor of—and Luna was there by the door, so tense her skin had broken out in its supernatural sparkle. I could almost see the flutter of her fae wings behind her back.
“My shoes,” I said, clutching the duffel bag I’d kept packed for emergencies, my head full of a sleepy haze. I had no idea what this emergency was, only that my guardian had shaken me awake with an urgent hiss of my name. “I can’t find them—”