Chapter 23
Isa
Isa sat in the passenger seat as they waited for her father’s text and wondered if she was dreaming. “That happened, right?”
“It did.”
Hope and disbelief swirled in her mind, shoving aside the more worrisome thoughts of Angel.
The fact that her father had offered to come see her meant there was a very real chance she might get him back.
As for Pilar, Isa wasn’t sure if that damage would ever be repaired.
Angel’s ability to convince his mother that he was the victim had eroded the bonds between the two women to such an extent there was a time Isa feared Pilar would call a hit on her.
“Hey, you okay?” Locke asked.
“I don’t know.”
On the dash charger, Locke’s phone vibrated with an incoming text. He picked it up, a frown forming as he read.
“What?”
He looked up, his expression grim. “Carter’s apartment was buried under a shit ton of shell companies that all end with the Forge Foundation.”
The name sounded familiar. It took a second to realize he’d mentioned it when he was questioning Kelly. “You asked about them before. Who are they?”
“A group Zev’s been chasing. We think they might be funding the drug’s production.”
He hadn’t even tried to dodge her question. “And they’re paying for Carter’s place?”
Locke nodded. “Not only that, but it seems that Streetwise Talent has come into an influx of cash.”
“Investors, you mean.” She did not like the picture he was painting. “Let me guess—this foundation is one of them.”
“Along with Healy’s Signature Enterprises.”
That would explain what they’d walked into at the Den. “And that Beto guy? Is he in it too?”
“Not yet. He and Angel had just started talking about a deal.”
“So him being at the Den the other night—that was Angel currying favor?”
“Looks like it.” He glanced at her. “What?”
“Why are you telling me this now?” Normally, she wouldn’t be so blunt—not when she was trying to navigate the precarious minefield of a possible relationship—but after dealing with Pilar and her dad, she felt an insulating numbness that made her less cautious.
His eyebrows rose. “You’d rather I didn’t?”
She grimaced. “Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
That got her a flash of a grin. “Nothing’s going to drop, reinita.” The grin faded fast, replaced by a look of somber resignation. “This drug was the Council’s Pandora’s Box.”
“Yeah, supercharging magic isn’t going to end well for anyone.”
“Especially those not used to wielding it.”
Shock rocked through her as she grappled with that bombshell. “Wait! Are you saying…?”
He gave her a grim nod. “And now that it’s out in the open, things are going to shift and not in a good way.”
This was what he’d been keeping from her. Her mind spun at the numerous implications such a drug would have out in the wild. A shiver of foreboding ran over her skin. “Can’t the families use those endless pockets to lock it down and create an antidote?”
“That short-term fix is already in the works, but the real implications run deeper.”
“The Arcane Families and the Traditionalists.”
The ideological rift had been growing in recent years as those with little to no access to magic decried the influence held by society’s magical powerhouses. What had been grist for political discussions when she was younger had grown into divisive rhetoric infiltrating everyday life.
He nodded. “Which is why we need to find out how Carter and Angel got their hands on this shit.”
She took in the lines etched around his eyes and mouth and the smudges under his eyes, and it hit her that while she’d been dealing with her own demons, he had been dealing with his.
Handling the darker truths might be part of his job, but it also reflected who he was—a man willing to do what it took to keep that darkness at bay.
Even if it meant shutting out those closest to him and going at it alone.
Just like me.
If he was willing to show her his truth, could she show him hers? Before she could lose her courage, she blurted, “Cora may not let Angel walk away.”
Locke’s gaze sharpened. “The vow you made?”
She nodded. “The only thing that will appease her is his death.” Reapers understood the inherent truth of an eye for an eye to balance death’s scales. Thanks to her vow, if that coin wasn’t offered, it would be Isa who paid the debt. She swallowed hard. “And you need him alive.”
“Not more than I need you.”
Her breath stalled as his statement struck deep, slicing through the last knot of resentment and fear. His icy-blue eyes studied her face, his thoughts inscrutable. Then awareness warmed the glacial blue.
He caught her chin in his hand and brushed a thumb over her lips. “Breathe, reinita.”
She let out a little gasp and drew in a shaky breath. “Dammit, Locke, warn a girl next time.”
He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers in a quick kiss. When he drew back, there was a subtle curve to his lips. “One thing at a time, yeah?”
She dipped her chin while her emotional composure scrambled for purchase. In her lap, her phone danced. She tore her gaze from Locke’s, picked up the device, and checked the screen. “Papá found the address.”
Locke pulled his seat belt in place. “Put it in.”
She plugged the address into the GPS unit then fastened her seat belt as he started the car. “It’s close.”
He checked his mirrors, waiting for traffic to pass, and pulled out. “Do me a favor. Send the address to Zev and let him know we’re checking it out.”
She picked up Locke’s phone and did as he asked. A text came zipping back. “He says he’s about a half hour away, at one of the other connected properties. Do you want him to head over?” She looked at Locke. “Connected properties?”
“Other places listed under the shell corp. It’s tedious as shit but has to be done if we want to run Angel to ground.” He checked his mirrors as he wove through the street. “Tell Zev to hold off until I can verify whether Angel’s there.”
She typed out the response, set his phone back on the holder, then grabbed the passenger-door handle.
Locke shot her a look. “Ready?”
“Not even close.”
He just grinned and hit the accelerator.
The address was located in an older neighborhood near the Encanto golf course, where the homes’ original redbrick had been modernized in shades of white and black.
Towering palm trees stood sentinel to well-worn asphalt and ribbons of sidewalks occasionally broken up by old-fashioned streetlights.
While Phoenix had an appalling number of golf courses, this location held a charming mix of old and new.
Even as the working day ticked down, the streets were quiet.
The homes sat back behind large, neat yards, where the shadows of encroaching evening emerged around trees and behind bushes to stretch along the meticulous landscaping and welcoming walkways.
Locke rolled slowly past a gray-roofed one-story building tucked between a Tudor Revival house and a ranch-style one.
A sleek two-door car was parked behind a wrought iron gate set off to the side.
The rest of the paver driveway was empty except for an artful collection of large potted plants and a tall palo verde tree.
“That’s probably Angel’s car,” Isa said.
“Doesn’t look like he has visitors.”
“You mentioned there were other places owned by the agency, so maybe Carter doesn’t know about this place.”
“Maybe.” Locke didn’t sound convinced.
She watched the house recede through the side mirror. “I didn’t see any cameras.”
“If it’s used for business visitors, they wouldn’t be visible.”
Fair point. “So, how do we get inside?”
“We walk up and knock.” He turned into a narrow alley lined with fences, garbage and recycling cans, and rear-facing garages. Tucked between two homes, the alley branched to the left, the turn partially blocked from view by a dumpster. Behind that was a small parking spot. Locke pulled into it.
“I don’t think he’ll just open the door.”
“I don’t need him to.” He shut the Dodge down and tossed his sunglasses onto the dash. “I can get us in. I just don’t want the neighbors involved.”
She undid her seat belt. “And if we try to sneak in…”
“Someone will call the police. Better to act like we’re expected.”
“And when Angel decides a noise complaint isn’t worth avoiding? You got a plan for that?”
He reached across her and popped his glove compartment. It dropped open, and she caught the flash of a sigil as he hit something and another compartment appeared like… well, magic. Inside sat a small black bag and thin metal case.
“Illusion spell?”
“Yep.” He pulled out the bag, opened it, and poured what looked like grayish-white stones into his palm.
“What are those?”
“Warding stones.” Locke ran his finger over them, turning them so she could see their etchings. He picked out three then returned the rest to the bag. Once that was back in the compartment, he reached for the case.
“And that?”
He flicked it open to reveal a set of multiple lockpicks. “Our way in.” He pulled out two and tucked them and the warding stones into a back pocket.
“And if it’s an electronic lock?”
He closed the hidden compartment then the glove box. “Then it’ll be an even easier entry.”
He popped the trunk then pushed open his door. She met him at the open trunk, where he folded back the liner, exposing a smooth metallic surface. He ran his finger over a spot, and a ward flared to life.
He traced the ward and murmured, “Sim sala bim.” A flare of blue was followed by a snick, and the metal shifted. He lifted the panel to reveal a padded collection of weapons.
She shook her head. “You drive around with that all the time?”
“Perk of the job.” He picked up a small black compact gun. “You know how to use one of these?”
“Yeah.” She took the SIG Sauer from him and racked back the slide, ensuring that the chamber was clear.
“Here.” He handed over a full magazine and a leather holster. “Set it at your back.”