4. Cal #2
“No,” Griff agreed. “It isn’t.” He cast a pointed glance toward the two thugs Cal had singlehandedly knocked out. “But somehow, I doubt that’s all you are.”
Behind Griff, the woman in charge gave a throaty chuckle.
She shifted within her net. “Ain’t you figured it out yet, Inspector?
That there is none other than the infamous Blackjack.
Let us retrieve what he stole from us, and you can have him.
No hard feelings for this little…misunderstanding. Deal?”
Cal’s heart sank. Shadow and shade…
Griff took a long, slow blink. Though his hard expression didn’t change, Cal could tell he was struggling to process that new information.
All right, things seem pretty bleak. But if there was one thing growing up on Derimay’s streets had taught him, it was how to be a fighter.
“Come on, Inspector,” Cal said with a hearty chuckle. “You don’t honestly believe her, do you? She’ll say anything to save her own neck.” When Griff didn’t reply, Cal licked his lips. “Think this through logically. If I—”
“Shut up,” Griff said.
There was no heat in the words. Nevertheless, something in the inspector’s tone made Cal obey.
He eyed the revolver in Griff’s grip. If he was quick enough and could catch Griff distracted, maybe he could alter his shape to slip free of the net and steal the revolver.
But that seemed like a pretty big if when staring down a barrel.
Nah, too risky.
He was torn from his scheming when Griff abruptly nodded to himself and turned, striding toward the downed Brotherhood brutes.
“You’re making the right call, Inspector,” the woman said, her voice laced with triumph. “Bald Locke and the Brotherhood won’t forget—”
Raising his pistol, Griff shot her in the chest.
Cal jerked in surprise at the cold-blooded action Perhaps he’d misjudged the inspector. Then, he saw the fizzle of magic across the woman as she slumped and realized it had been another enchanted bullet, like the net. This one must put its target to sleep.
Griff strode back over. Staring up at the inspector’s calm face, Cal’s heart skipped a nervous beat as he eyed the revolver.
“Thanks for being reasonable.” He wriggled in the net.
“Now, let me out of this thing, and we can both get out of here and put all this nastiness behind us. What do you say, Inspector?”
Ignoring him, Griff unhooked a pair of silver bands from his belt. He fastened one around his left wrist, then tossed the other down beside Cal. Cal didn’t miss the way he kept a few paces between them, nor how his revolver never wavered. Cal had to admire his prudence.
“Put this on,” Griff said.
Fumbling past the net, Cal managed to grab the bracelet and slip it through the netting. “What is it?”
“A pacifier cuff.” Griff held up his wrist and jingled the other bracelet. “Stops you from harming me or getting too far away.”
Cal had never heard of such a device. More Vantoric artificery, no doubt. This was one invention he could happily have done without.
“Is this really necessary?” he asked. “You don’t actually believe I’m the infamous Blackjack, do you?”
“Yes,” Griff said. “I do. And after everything that’s happened here, I have more than enough evidence to justify bringing you in for additional questioning. Just because I refuse to make a deal with smugglers and thieves doesn’t mean I’ll just let you go.”
Cal frowned as he studied the silver bracelet.
He considered refusing, but that would probably just prompt the inspector to knock him out with one of those magic bullets and force the cuff on him anyway.
Better to let the inspector think him beaten.
It was always easiest to trick someone who thought they’d already won.
“Fine.” Shoving down a prickle of unease, he clasped the cuff around his wrist. The smooth metal band felt cool against his skin. If it was magical as Griff claimed, Cal couldn’t sense the effect. Not without his lock rods.
The instant he put on the cuff, Griff seemed to relax. Tucking his revolver back in its holster, he stooped down and began untangling the net. Within moments, he had Cal free.
Fiddling with the band on his wrist, Cal hesitantly rose. He expected Griff to grab him and roughly haul him out of there, but Griff just stood there, watching him patiently. It was like he was waiting for something.
Usually, Cal had no issues with silence. Something about Griff’s stare, however, sent a flutter of uncharacteristic nerves through his belly.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Griff gestured toward the door. “Go ahead.” When Cal only furrowed his brow in confusion, Griff sighed.
“We both know you’re going to do everything you can to try to escape.
Since I have no intention of letting you talk your way out of this, that leaves the cuff.
So, go ahead and test its limits now. That way, we can get it out of the way. ”
Cal was surprised to find himself fighting down an amused smirk. He had to admit, he appreciated the inspector’s directness. Perhaps his initial assessment last night at the Siren’s Call hadn’t been so off-base after all.
Obviously, Cal had no intention of cooperating or going quietly. Still, he saw no reason not to play along for now.
Spinning, he bolted for the door. He made it about twenty paces or so before jerking to an abrupt halt.
It was less like he’d run into a physical barrier and more like his body had suddenly decided it no longer felt like running.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to force himself to take so much as a single step further away.
Frowning to himself, he raised his wrist and spun the bracelet about, studying the metal. It was hard to tell without his tools, but it didn’t appear to be magically sealed. He could see the clasp easily enough. It should take no effort at all to open.
Yet when he tried to make his fingers do it, they once again refused to obey. Some form of arcane compulsion—it has to be. It was diabolically subtle. The bracelet had no need for fancy wards. It simply ensured the wearer couldn’t meddle with it.
Still, that was far from foolproof. Perhaps he could convince someone else to take the bracelet off for him, or disable the enchantment with his tools once he was alone.
For now though, that only left one other aspect of the pacifier cuff to test. Picking up a fallen club from the floor, he turned and charged the inspector. Griff made no move to stop him or to retreat. He just stood there, watching calmly.
Sure enough, Cal froze a hand’s width away. He had the club upraised to swing but couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He tossed the club aside with a sigh. “All right, I’ll admit, that’s pretty nifty. I’ve never seen something like it before. Is it a custom piece?”
Some emotion Cal couldn’t read flitted over Griff’s face. Instead of answering, he started for the door.
Cal tried to remain behind, but the instant Griff reached the bracelet’s maximum distance, he found his feet following of their own accord.
If there was one word that described Cal, it was survivor.
And while it was possible he’d get a chance to escape en route, the odds weren’t seeming in his favor.
Performing some quick mental gymnastics, he discarded several potential ploys before settling on the most desperate gambit he had available to him: the truth.
Or at least, some portion of it.
“All right, let me level with you,” Cal said as Griff guided him like a dog on a leash past the unconscious bodies of the Brotherhood brutes into the apartment building’s narrow, dirty hall. “It’s possible I may know about this orb they were talking about.”
Griff slowed, turning to raise a silent eyebrow at him.
Cal took that as permission to keep talking. “I went to The Last Drop last night to collect a commission for a job. While I was there, I saw Bald Locke handing this chest off to someone for a hefty fee. Naturally, I was curious, so I followed them out.”
“And stole it,” Griff said in sudden understanding.
Cal rolled his eyes at the obvious judgment in Griff’s tone. “We both know that anything Bald Locke is selling didn’t enter Derimay legally, so it hardly counts as some grand crime. But yes, I…procured the chest. And when I got back here and opened it, I found this inside.”
He reached up and pressed a finger to the thief’s mark on the left side of his chest. Magic flared, and an instant later, the orb materialized in his hand.
He held it up toward Griff, frowning when the inspector recoiled.
Griff’s stoic face had twisted with a grimace somewhere between disgust and fear.
“What in the name of the Goddess is that? Its foul aura is clawing at my skin.”
Cal glanced down at the object, then back up at Griff. “You said something like that before. You can sense auras?”
The self-conscious look that crossed Griff’s face was deeply amusing.
The inspector shrugged. “Have been able to since I was a kid. Comes in handy when I’m working a case.
” He fixed Cal with a meaningful look. “Or trying to track a source of magic. Speaking of talents, what about that trick with your duskflame?”
It was Cal’s turn to feel uneasy, his amusement vanishing.
He didn’t like anyone knowing about his ability, especially an inspector.
Even if he got out of this jam, that could prove problematic.
One of Blackjack’s key advantages so far had been the element of surprise.
Maybe after this, it was time to leave Derimay for good.
Instead of answering, Cal gestured to the orb he still held. “You seem pretty freaked out by this thing. I can’t read its aura or whatever, but I have to admit, I don’t like it much either. I was planning to hock it the first chance I got. What is it supposed to do?”