Chapter 9 #2
Cole was someone both Pax and Ari knew from previous encounters in the field. They’d worked together several times, including one memorable mission where Cole had managed to save their lives by timely intervention of superior firepower and a well-placed brick of C4.
But Cole wasn’t just skilled in the field and a deadly adversary, he had people skills that had made him the ultimate chameleon.
He could insert anywhere and act a part that let him pass until it was time to carry out his deadly orders.
Pax had been intrigued to find that Cole had decided to work with the Wraiths, and based on his experience and expertise, he’d joined them at a fairly high level, which was unusual.
Based on their prior relationship, Pax trusted Cole enough to discuss the situation in depth with him.
Pax gave him the overview of what had happened in Salt Lake City, and since returning home.
He passed on what the shaman had told him about the mage testing the edge of the Clan’s wards and the likelihood that whoever this was had come specifically for him as a result of his last mission, which had been given to him by the Wraiths.
Cole seemed to uncharacteristically hesitate before speaking. “We didn’t have intel on a mage in Salt Lake,” he said.
“No,” Pax said. “You obviously didn’t.”
Another pause. “I take full responsibility for the incomplete brief. That was my failure.” It was said plainly, without deflection.
Pax noted it and respected Cole’s willingness to accept blame.
That still didn’t fix the problem, though.
“What do you need from us?” Cole went on, as Pax nodded.
That’s what he’d wanted. Better intel from the Wraiths, who had a much larger operation in the States than Pax could muster on his own.
“I need to know what you’ve learned about the ambush.” He paused. “And I’d also like to know if Danny’s situation in Grizzly Cove is still secure. It’d be a shame to have wasted all that effort to get the kid there if he’s still in danger.”
“Danny’s fine. That part was a success. Nothing gets past Grizzly Cove’s wards these days.
” Cole sounded pleased by that part at least. “I’ll pull together everything we have on what happened to you, as well as info on any mages we know of in that area and get it to you by tomorrow.
And Rojas…” He trailed off and paused briefly.
“Jesse said to tell you that the offer is still open, regardless of what happened.”
Pax looked out the window at the desert. “Tell Jesse I appreciate it,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”
He sat still after the call and thought about the offer. Wyoming. The Wraiths. The next thing to move toward. But was it?
He thought about the morning light in Leeland’s Hardware, sharing coffee with Bree. Her voice going patient and implacable when she told him not to manage her. He thought about Pedro’s words.
Don’t be so careful with rare things that you forget to hold onto them.
He put his phone back in his pocket and went to find Ari.
*
The stranger had been in the town for more than a week and was beginning to understand why it had taken him so long to find the trail.
The wards here were old. Older than he’d expected from what he’d been able to learn about this area, which was almost nothing, because whatever was being hidden had been hidden too long and too well to leave much trace.
He’d followed the injured cat’s trail by feel more than anything else.
He’d tracked the slight magical disturbance of a significant shifter moving through human spaces.
It was the kind of trace a trained blood path mage could follow if he was patient and the cat was bleeding badly enough to leave more of a signature than it intended.
He’d found the town. He’d found the family. A cat shifter and his parents, living on the edge of a small desert community. Unremarkable, really. Just three magical signatures that were well-concealed behind wards that were frankly impressive for something in the middle of nowhere.
He’d been expecting something isolated. Provincial. A small Clan, maybe. What he was beginning to see, in the periphery of his attention, was something that didn’t quite fit that picture.
The hardware store bothered him. He’d been inside once, early in his search of the town.
It was a perfectly ordinary hardware store.
Everything was slightly worn, but the place was efficiently run.
It was the kind of place that had existed in American small towns for generations.
The woman who ran it was human. Also unremarkable.
Her father was very old and sat by the window and told stories all day. Not a threat in any sense of the word.
But the golden-haired shifter went there every morning. And the people who came and went from that store, in and out over the course of a day, were strange. Some of them moved wrong. Not wrong enough to notice if you weren’t trained to notice. But he was.
He sat in his rental house on the edge of town and turned this over carefully. He’d been taught to think methodically, without rushing to a conclusion, because conclusions reached in haste had a way of becoming liabilities.
The jaguar’s family was only three people. Mother, father, and his original target. The wards he sensed were built reasonably to protect just three. But the hardware store had a lot more traffic than that, and many of them moved like shifters.
He pulled out his notebook and began to make notes.
He wasn’t certain of anything, but he was beginning to revise his assessment upward, and that told him he needed to be more careful than he’d expected.
He might even have to call for reinforcements if he hoped to gain anything out of this wild goose chase.
Pity, that. He’d hoped to take the jaguar’s magic for his own and he really didn’t want to share.
His partner, Charity, had hurt the beast, but hadn’t cared enough to follow the faint trail.
She was currently lounging on a beach in California while he sweated in the desert.
He didn’t want to give her any part of this magical haul, but he wasn’t powerful enough yet on his own to guarantee that he could take on more than the three shifters he’d originally suspected.
If there were more, he’d have to cut her in on the deal.
She had more battle magic than he did and she had a ruthless quality that was both explosive and effective.
But he wouldn’t call her unless it was absolutely necessary.
He wanted the power of the shifters for himself.
He’d wait and watch, and be as certain as possible about what was hiding out here in the desert before he took that step.
He could afford to be patient. The jaguar wasn’t going anywhere.
He was healing, clearly. Settling in for recovery.
That was fine. Alexander had always been a patient man.
He made his notes, poured himself a small measure of good whiskey, and looked out his window at the ordinary desert town.
He thought about how much he still didn’t know, and how that was going to change.
He had a lot of work to do before he decided on his next move.