Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
The rear of the SUV slammed into the front end of the Merc, throwing me sideways as the car was pushed into the nearby fence and sent bricks flying.
There was a screech of tires as the woman tried to avoid the SUV, but her car slid on the wet road and spun, the rear end of her vehicle finishing off the bit of fence we’d left untouched.
The SUV peeled away from us and sped down the street.
“Oh, no you fucking don’t,” I growled, and scrambled out of the Merc.
The wind whipped around me, sharp, cold, and eager to be used.
I flung it after the retreating vehicle, slipped a thick knot of it under the SUV’s tail end, and then flipped it up and over.
The vehicle landed on its roof hard enough to buckle and slid down the road for several yards before coming to rest hard up against a light pole.
Mathi was already running toward it, Henrick two steps behind him.
I didn’t chase after them; the wind continued her whispering, telling me our thief was on the run. I scrambled over the small brick fence separating the house behind us with the one next door, and headed for the crossover and the white house on the left side of it.
The front door was wide open, an invitation to enter if ever I saw one, and one I wasn’t foolish enough to accept.
Instead, I followed the asphalt path down the side of the house to the gate, pushing it open with a blast of wind and running on to the end of the double-story building.
I paused briefly, scanning the backyard, looking for any hint of fog or vapor to suggest the thief was still here.
There was nothing to be seen, but a tremor now ran through the ground. The bastard was tunneling again.
I swore, gathered another whip of wind and flung it toward what seemed to be the epicenter of the trembling, then chased after it. I’d barely gone a few yards when the ground stopped moving. The wind trailed back to me, whispering of earth closing down on top of it, sheering it in half.
The bastard hadn’t been opening a new tunnel, he’d been closing it down behind him.
I swore once again but nevertheless continued on.
A thick hedge of common box divided the yard from the golf course beyond, but there was no gateway cut through it that would have provided access onto the course.
That shouldn’t have been a problem for our vaporous thief, of course, but for whatever reason, he’d obviously regained human form beforehand, then dived through the hedge, leaving behind a broken mess of branches, leaves, and a thick song of distress.
Why? It made absolutely no sense. Even if he had created his escape tunnel just beyond the hedge, why not simply keep to his vaporous form until he’d reached its safety?
Why become flesh and blood and then inflict damage on himself by diving through such a thick hedge?
And he obviously had suffered multiple cuts—even from here I could see the small bits of material and maybe even some hair fluttering in the shattered pathway he’d made.
There’d also likely be some blood, though I couldn’t immediately see the dark gleam of it.
The common box’s song of distress sharpened as I stopped in front of it; perhaps the rivers of golden life that pulsed through the thick greenery sensed the closeness of someone who could ease their agony.
I slipped deep into the flow, carefully chased down every broken end, and then looped the rivers away from each point.
It would mean some die off in the plant overall, but with the still-healthy flow of energies intact further down the branches and limbs, the gap would eventually close over.
As I pulled out of the rivers, the wind stirred yet again, though this time it was filled with nothing more than the warning of impending rain and the wail of sirens.
I dragged my phone out of my pocket to check the time; it was close to six, which hopefully meant it would be Sgott’s crew in those cars rather than Ruadhán’s.
But if it was the latter, I only had a couple of minutes, if that, to take advantage of the back door being wide open.
I ran back up the yard. While neither the Eye nor my instincts were giving any indication that danger or a trap waited inside the back half of the house—as it had when I’d run past the front door—I nevertheless paused before entering and listened to the building’s rich, warm song.
There was nothing untoward within it. Nothing to suggest anyone was currently inside the home.
I nevertheless connected to the rivers and quickly skimmed through them, looking for any “hot spots” that would indicate someone standing or sitting within.
Again, nothing.
Which didn’t mean there wasn’t any danger or trap waiting within, especially given the wide-open front door.
I called my knives from my purse, which was still sitting in the backseat of the Mercedes.
Once they’d thudded into my hands, I tucked one blade into my belt under my coat, angling it so that I didn’t stab my butt, then gripped the other tightly, feeling oddly reassured with its weight in my hand as I carefully stepped inside.
Lightning flickered down the blade’s fuller, a warning that echoed through the Eye.
There was magic here, though it was much deeper inside the house and held no immediate threat.
I walked through the small laundry into a combined kitchen-dining-living space that ran the remaining width of the building.
Glass sliding doors dominated the living area and would have provided great views over the golf course if the hedge wasn’t there.
Said hedge, no doubt, was there to prevent wayward golf balls smashing those same glass doors or the nearby windows.
I did a quick scout around the room, but nothing stirred my instincts.
I continued on, into a hall from which there were entrances into several more rooms. A vague scent hung on the air, soft and definitely feminine.
I frowned, drawing in a deeper breath; orange flowers, I thought after a moment, with just a hint of musk.
Definitely not the scent of our thief, suggesting someone else had been here.
Whether the scent wearer had been with him or had arrived beforehand was impossible to say.
At the far end of the hall was the open front door, and near it, to its right, were the stairs leading up to the first floor. Between it and me was some sort of weird haze.
I didn’t need the faint flicker of lightning down the blade to tell me that haze was magic.
Outside, the sirens stopped and the sound of car doors slamming rode the wind. The clock was definitely running down now....
I edged forward, my gaze on the haze. As I got closer, the lightning rolling down the knife’s fuller intensified and the vague sense of danger increased.
I stopped again several feet away and sat on my heels, studying the haze through narrowed eyes.
After a moment, I spotted the wire. It was hair fine, barely visible to the naked eye, and stretched the entire width of the hall, sitting only an inch or so off the oak flooring.
It was attached to the skirting board on one side and a small round disk that was barely visible against the understairs storage doors on the other.
Footsteps approached and I glanced up. A big bear of a man with thick, wiry brown hair, brown skin, and a fierce, untamable beard strode up the path toward me.
Sgott, just as I’d hoped. And while he might be no happier than Ruadhán to find me inside this house, he was more likely to accept my reasons. His expression was certainly more resigned than annoyed.
“Lass, one of these days you’re going to put yourself in deep trouble by trespassing like this.”
The Scottish brogue was heavy in his voice, making it sound like it was coming from the vicinity of his boots.
“One of these days, I undoubtedly will, but hopefully it won’t be today.” I pointed toward the wire. “There’s a trip wire here, attached to a disk and protected by a haze of magic.”
He stopped on the threshold and squatted on his heels, brown eyes narrowing as his gaze swept the hall in front of me. “I’m not seeing anything.”
“I think that’s because of the magic. The only reason I saw it was because the knife gave me warning.”
“Are you able to defuse the magic with your knife without tripping the wire? I can call someone in, but that’ll take time we might not have.”
I hesitated. “I should be able to, but it still might be wise if you step back.”
“I’ll step back when you step back, lass.”
“That’s not—”
“I said what I said, and I mean it.”
I stared at him for a second, then rolled my eyes and gave in to the inevitable. “Fine. I’ll task the wind with yanking me backward the minute I stab the haze.”
“Good.” He rose, glanced around at the sound of steps, and motioned to whoever it was to stop.
I silently reached for the wind, tied it around my waist, then returned my attention to Sgott. “Ready?”
He nodded, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet, ready to turn and run. I tightened the finger of air a fraction more, slashed the knife through the haze, and then ordered the wind to rip me back down the hall.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the haze ignited, and the disk exploded with enough force to shake the whole building.
Dust and plaster began to chase me down the hall, and huge cracks appeared in the ceiling above.
The building’s gentle song switched to one of utter distress. .. it was coming down.
The whole fucking house was coming down.