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Damn it, I didn’t have time to find one. A pity.
First though, I should allay suspicions.
I took several minutes to draft the text message. Tried to make it sound casual, yet smart, laidback yet intriguing.
The translation is a bit tricky. The possible meanings are mostly to do with some ancient philosopher. Can you drop by soon? Are you in Houston?
Even if she were already suspicious, she’d hopefully think me clueless about the graffiti. Wait, no. She’d sent it to taunt me, hadn’t she? The logic bounced back and forth. Yes, she did. No, she didn’t. If she knew, they’d come armed to the teeth. If so, I’d be the mouse and play them. Talk. Feed them poison, maybe? Gas? The internet was full of ways to eliminate people. If I could separate them, that would be better.
Sure. I’ll be in Houston tomorrow or the next day. Sounds disappointing. Not what I hoped for. Will text you when I’m there. Thanks again!
I set aside my phone.Done.
For years I’d watched her and she’d been my Madonna, the perfect girl I could protect. If she turned on me though, she’d find out what I did to my enemies.
This was how you felt when you went fishing for sharks. Exciting. Killing two would be easy if I got them in different rooms. The bomb would be my absolute last resort. If I locked the CIA man in the room and fed in gas...
Manufacturing poison gas was a job for a chemist.
Luckily I had contacts. Even carbon monoxide would work, though. Good old engine exhaust. Because really, once in the room I wasn’t going to get out until the door combo was punched in.
The cell phone jammer would stop either of them calling out.
Yes.
I sat in my swivel chair and spun myself around and around.
CHAPTER35
Zara
I restedmy elbows on the concrete parapet. The view swept toward the port of Houston. I’d agreed to come back, for now—Val and I were working on our give and take. Cranes, high-rises, and commercial structures pushed up and bit chunks from the clear sky. Nothing pretty about it except for the blue of sky and river, and the sheer vastness of the space up here.
The wind claimed you once you stepped onto the rooftop.
Below my feet was a mess—a dilapidated apartment building with few people, rusted lifts, rusted old people, and Chester, bunkering with his computer surrogate children. I didn’t blame him. Some days, living among people could be tiring, dangerous, not worth the effort. Better to wall yourself away.
I’d always believed that until... My gaze moved to Val as he walked along the wall scoping out our target.
Something inside me fluttered. An uncomfortable dizzy thing.
I wanted to kill him.
I wanted to save him.
I wanted him.
Watching his profile as he looked down at the city, he was like some moody god residing. Below, his subjects remained oblivious. If I joined him at the edge and looked down, I’d see a sea of streets, a moving current of cars and people. The silence of the skies would give way to Houston as it bubbled and grumbled to itself—sometimes shouting, sometimes wailing, and sometimes dreaming.
What we wanted lay a few blocks away. Val had tracked down the police station where all the collected evidence from the bomb area was supposedly cataloged and held. Somewhere, among all those artifacts, was the Cucitrice’s handbag—mine now.
I had a yearning when I thought of the bag. God knew why. Far as I recalled, the only things of importance it held were the spools of faery and imp. Val reasoned it was the first step to hunting down more clues.
“I can’t see how we can walk in there and just take it back,” I said. Val turned to look at me. “The cops won’t see the spool or the creatures, but they will see us.”
He shrugged as he made his way back to me. “There’s always a way. The art is finding the angle.”
“Well, coercion does seem to be your secret superpower.”
