Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
S omething was off. Stella felt it in her gut. And it wasn’t just because the man they’d been chasing was sitting on the ground with his hands laced behind his head, muttering incoherently.
Jade kicked the man’s foot—not hard, just enough to get his attention. “Quit mumbling and answer my sister’s question.”
He looked up at her, then at Stella. “I already told you. My name’s David Hurley.”
Yes , Stella thought. He’d said that. But the faint scent of magic swirling around him gave her reason for doubt.
The strange thing was, it wasn’t the spicy, soupy amalgam of magic she’d come to associate with her father. Rather, it was a thin, crisp whiff of lavender—personal magic, though not very strong. Was it coming from him, or was it simply on him—like a residue picked up in passing?
When Stella didn’t respond to his insistent claim, the man’s expression turned sour.
“Fine,” he said. “If you don’t believe me, ask him.” He slid his angry gaze from Stella to Ethan. “Tell her, Mather. You know who I am.”
Ethan pressed his lips together but said nothing.
“Is he a witch?” Stryker asked.
“He’s something ,” Stella said. “But this isn’t my fa?—”
“The Collector,” Antoinette cut in.
The man flinched, and bits of sand that were clinging to his coat sprinkled onto the pavement.
“You’re saying this isn’t the Collector?” Stryker asked.
“Right,” Stella said. “It’s not.” And she was sure of it.
“Great.” The man slid a finger inside his broad white collar, which was probably a little less crisp and lot less dry than when he’d started the evening. “Sounds like you’re all looking for someone other than me. Big misunderstanding.”
He started to get up off the ground, but Stryker pushed him back down. “If you’re not the Collector, then why the hell were you running from us?”
“I don’t have to answer that,” the man said.
“Are you the real David Hurley?” Ethan asked.
The man folded his arms. “Of course I am.”
“What did you and I discuss at my fundraiser in June?” Ethan asked.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “ What? ”
“You heard me.” Ethan crouched in front of the man. “We talked for nearly thirty minutes. What was the topic?”
The man lifted his gaze from Ethan to Stryker, who—if they were going strictly on physical appearances—was the most obvious threat.
“If I recall,” the man said, returning his eyes to Ethan, “you were big on transparency . Especially among politicians.”
That was true. Stella remembered Ethan discussing transparency with a reporter. Someone had quipped that Ethan’s opponent was as transparent as a solid oak door.
But did that mean this was the real David Hurley, or someone else who was remembering what they’d written in the paper?
Ethan didn’t respond. Maybe that was because he couldn’t riddle it out either.
“Satisfied?” Hurley asked. “Great. I guess I’ll just be—” He shifted his position like he was preparing to stand.
“Not so fast,” Ethan put his hand on the man’s shoulder and kept him on the ground. “Why did you run? How did you even know to run from us?”
“Let him get up, Ethan,” Stella said. “There’s eight of us and one of him. He isn’t going anywhere.”
Ethan gave her an up-tipped glance of annoyance, but acquiesced. He pulled back his hand and stood. “You heard the lady.”
The man made a harumph sound, probably at the term “lady.” Stella was barefoot, practically falling out of the top of her dress, and with a ripped slit in her skirt that went so high she was sure they could all see the thin elastic waistband of her red lace panties.
Everyone took a half step back to give the man room to move, then as soon as he was up, closed in on him again.
When the man still didn’t answer Ethan’s questions, Ethan prompted, “ Well? ”
“Well what? ” the man asked.
The tops of Ethan’s cheeks got a little red, something Stella didn’t think was a good sign.
“That wasn’t just a wolf costume,” Ethan said, tipping his head toward Stryker. “My friend here is an actual wolf. Shifter, that is. One word from me, and he’ll tear you to shreds.”
Stella raised her eyebrows and glanced at Stryker, not exactly sure how he’d react to Ethan referring to him as his attack dog.
If Stryker was fighting an eye roll, Stella couldn’t tell. But he did raise one hand and allowed five claws to spring from his fingertips.
The man paled. “Fine. Fine.” He glanced at Stryker’s hand again, then back to Ethan. “What do you want to know, Mather? Just tell me.”
“Are you the real David Hurley?” Ethan asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you know the Collector?” Stryker asked.
Hurley shook his head. “Never heard that name.”
“What about Robert Aldren?” Stella pressed.
He shook his head again.
“R.G.?” Abby tried. “Or maybe Archie?”
Hurley’s eyebrows drew together and lowered over his dark eyes.
“How’d you enjoy your visit to Faneuil Hall?” Jun asked.
Surprisingly, out of all of their questions, that one got the biggest reaction. Hurley’s head jerked back, and he asked, “Faneuil Hall?”
“I saw you leaving the building last weekend,” Jun said.
“I…” Hurley didn’t exactly flatten his body against the brick wall, but he looked even more trapped than he had before. “You’re mistaken.”
“Apologies,” Jun said. “You’re right. Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it was just your face.”
Hurley’s eyes slid to Stryker, who’d chosen that exact moment to pick his teeth with one particularly sharp claw.
Stella watched, fascinated, as Hurley’s cheeks went bloodless.
“I don’t know his name,” he said quickly.
“You don’t know whose name?” Stella asked. “You must call him something.”
Hurley shook his head like he meant to shake it right off his shoulders. “About a month ago, he came to my office. I agreed to let him use my face whenever he wants.”
“Agreed?” Stella asked. “Like he gave you a choice?”
Hurley squirmed, and his skin went a little gray. “Not exactly.”
Stella nodded. That tracked. “Did he pick you because you’re a witch?”
“I’m not a witch,” Hurley said.
Stella raised one eyebrow.
“My mother was,” Hurley muttered.
Hmmm , Stella thought. That could explain the magical residue.
“Back to the name,” Ethan said impatiently.
“He’s a client of mine,” Hurley said. “I can’t tell you anything. There’s attorney-client privilege.”
“Not anymore there’s not,” Stryker said while letting his canine teeth grow to lethal proportions.
Izzy sparked tiny bolts of electricity in the spaces between her fingers, which were currently pointed right at Hurley.
Jade twirled one finger in the direction of Hurley’s pants and magically undid his belt before slowly pulling it through the loops.
Stella wasn’t exactly sure what Jade planned to do, but between the idea of losing his pants, Izzy’s electrical threat, and a very agitated Stryker, Hurley was blinking rapidly and ready to talk.
“He goes by Robert Giles Corey,” he said, blurting out the words like they’d been shot from a cannon. “He told me to not let you get too close. That’s why I ran.”
Jade released her spell, and Hurley’s belt hung like a dead snake skin from two belt loops over his hip.
“Robert Giles,” Ethan murmured. “I guess there’s your R.G..”
“Giles Corey isn’t by accident either,” Izzy said.
“It’s totally on brand,” Stella agreed.
“What do you mean?” Stryker asked.
Throughout this exchange, Hurley wiped sweat off his upper lip.
“Giles Corey died in Salem in 1692,” Jade explained, “but he wasn’t hanged. By law, the witch hunters required the accused witches to either admit or deny. Giles Corey refused to plead. He wouldn’t play the witch hunters’ games. He wouldn’t give in to their demands. He refused to give them the power. So, they pressed him to death under slabs of stone.”
“The Collector,” Stella said, remembering all that he’d confessed to her in Trask’s Mill, “wants power over those people he equates with the witch hunters. That’s his goal.”
“How is using your face supposed to help him gain power?” Ethan asked Hurley, whose expression had now gone completely blank.
“What did he give you in exchange for your identity?” Ethan pressed.
Still, Hurley said nothing.
“He let him live ,” Stella said. “That’s the payment he received. His life.”
“He’d have to let him live if he wanted to keep using his face,” Jun said, which Stella thought was pretty astute. She didn’t exactly know how the magic worked, but that made a certain kind of sense.
“Where do you keep his files?” Ethan asked.
“There aren’t any files,” Hurley said, and the fact he’d decided now was the time to start talking again made Stella suspicious.
Apparently, Ethan wasn’t buying the response either because he got a little closer. “You said he’s a client of yours. You had to have opened a file.”
Hurley scoffed. “You think he’d let me enter his information into our firm’s database?”
Ethan stared Hurley down.
Hurley stared back, but a muscle jumped in his jaw.
After what felt like a full minute, Ethan asked, “That’s it?”
“That’s it unless you can offer me protection,” Hurley said.
“Protection from the Collector?” Ethan asked. “We can’t promise you that, and you know it.”
Hurley was insistent. “I want like…a binding oath that you’ll protect me.”
“A binding oath?” Jade asked.
“Yeah, like…” His gaze whipped wildly back and forth across all of their faces. “Like an unbreakable vow.”
Jade snorted. “You watch too many movies.”
Hurley blinked once, and his lips parted. “But…”
“There’s no such thing,” Stella explained. “Not in real life.”
Hurley blinked again, then his whole posture changed. This wasn’t a huge surprise; he was an attorney; he’d likely been in a ton of negotiations. He knew to hang on to whatever leverage he still had.
He folded his arms and said, “Then that’s all you get from me. Let your shifter friend do his worst. I’m done.”
Stella might not have been an attorney, but still, she recognized the play. Hurley had information on her father and knew his plans. He also knew that the only way for them to get their hands on the information was to keep him alive and talking.
In short, Hurley was calling their bluff. And in that, she heard the memory of Lovey DuPre’s voice saying, Dead men don’t talk .
Unfortunately, they weren’t bluffing. They couldn’t protect the man from her father. She wasn’t even sure they could protect themselves.
Her hand shot forward. On a hunch, she reached into Hurley’s coat pocket and got lucky. She extracted his phone.
“Hey!” Hurley lunged forward, but Stryker put a hand to the man’s chest and pushed him back against the wall.
Stella’s bright idea did have its limits though; she was no tech genius. So, she handed the phone off to Izzy. “See where he goes.”
Izzy grinned, held the screen up to Hurley’s face to unlock it, then started punching buttons.
“You’re invading my privacy!” Hurley protested.
“And you’re getting on my last nerve,” Ethan said.
“Here we go!” Izzy exclaimed with a wide grin. “Location Services weren’t disabled. It looks like several times a week he’s going to a small commercial building in Cambridge. Number Two Mellen Street.”
“Something tells me Beach and Flanagan doesn’t have a satellite office in Cambridge,” Ethan said smugly.
To his credit, Hurley took a page from Giles Corey’s book. He didn’t admit or deny.
So, there was only one thing for them to do. Fortunately, when it came to breaking and entering, Stella and Ethan were well practiced.
“Izzy? Jade?” Stella asked. “Are you two good to guard him while we check things out?”
Together, the currently caped superheroes had all the necessary power to keep Hurley on lockdown, plus Izzy could put a powerful ward on either end of the alley to keep the public out. Their talents were best used here.
“You got it,” Jade said, looking like she was going to enjoy an evening with Hurley. “Take all the time you need.”