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Seriously, literal canned spells? I would’ve thought it was a joke if I hadn’t seen it myself.
According to the various wall clocks, which displayed local time as well as the time in several other cities, it was already five to nine, which meant I’d been here for at least eight hours. Mateo had spent the first hour or so grilling me, trying to poke holes in my story, and when he’d gotten tired of doing that, he’d taken a nap upright, sitting in the office chair in front of the screens. Somehow, I had managed to fall asleep on the cot, despite being in a strange place. I had woken up to him tapping away on his laptop.
Crap. Five to nine also meant that in five minutes, I’d be late for work. My overbearing, watch-you-work-over-your-shoulder boss was going to be pissed. I could already picture the steam coming out of her ears, but honestly, Tamara was the least of my problems right now.
No, that award went to the monster currently pacing a trench into the concrete floor as he explained to the dragon on the phone that no, he had not, in fact, retrieved his treasure yet. I couldn’t quite hear what was being said since the conversation was happening in the other room, but from Mateo’s half of it, things didn’t sound good.
I didn’t envy him. I’d much rather face Tamara’s judgy disappointment than a dragon’s wrath. Getting fired was much better than getting set on fire. I almost felt bad for Mateo. Almost. I just hoped he wouldn’t take it out on me.
In the end, he hadn’t actually tried to convince me to talk by offering sexual favors, and I was secretly a bit disappointed. What a tease.
Seriously, my fear response was completely broken. I’d been kidnapped from my home and locked in a basement, and instead of shaking in fear like a normal person, I kept wondering what my kidnapper hid behind the illusion spell he wore. What was up with that?
Whatever he was, it was definitely some kind of predator; the spell wasn’t strong enough to hide that.
Mateo shoved his phone back into his pocket as he entered the room and slumped into the chair in front of his laptop.
“What’s your brother’s number, Little Thief?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes; he’d been calling me that all morning. “I don’t have it memorized, and somebody didn’t let me bring my phone.”
He dug out his phone again, and held it up to take a photo.
“Say cheese,” he said, then snapped the pic before I could react.
“What are you doing?”
“He’s your brother. He’ll come for you if I send him this.”
I looked at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. “You’re funny,” I wheezed between cackles. “As if Tony would ever think about anyone other than himself. I bet he stopped by my house on purpose, just to waste your time.” I looked at the clock again. I was now officially late for work. Remembering the time I’d arrived fifteen minutes late because of a flat tire and Tamara had launched into this whole spiel, asking why I even bothered to come in at all if I was going to be late, I decided I wasn’t going to go to work today. “How about I go one better? I’ll tell you where he lives.”
Mateo had done a search first thing this morning and found no address linked to my brother’s name. In fact, he’d found nothing at all on him, except for two previous arrests that had him listed at a shelter address. But I knew where Tony was staying. He was housesitting while his friend was serving a five-year sentence—though I wouldn’t really call it housesitting, since the place would’ve probably been better taken care of if he hadn’t been there. He’d trashed it.
“How do I know you’re not wasting my time, Little Thief? You could be taking me on a wild goose chase, just like your brother wants.”
“Because I have no love for that jerk. Not after what he did.”
That piqued Mateo’s interest. “What did he do? I mean, besides stealing a dragon’s treasure and leading me straight to you.”
I looked at my feet. “When I was a teenager, a bunch of scary-ass mobsters showed up at my parent’s door, demanding they pay them back for a loan they never took out. You can guess who was involved. It cost them their entire retirement plan and my whole college fund. We even had to down-size our home, but we made it work. Then, to top it off, the last time he visited, he stole my car. Then he crashed it.”
“Huh. Great guy.”
“Yup. I promised myself I was never helping him again. The only reason I let him in the other night was because it was late, and I was too tired to argue, and I figured I’d deal with it in the morning. But then in the morning he was gone. I seriously don’t know how he left if he didn’t take the front or back door.”
Mateo had gone through the footage around my home again, and sure enough, it showed Tony getting into my home, but never leaving. So weird. It was like he’d been beamed up or something.
“There was a substantial amount of magical residue in your living room. I assumed it was merely from your practice.”
I shook my head. “Nope. I know Mom’s side of the family used to have magic, long ago, but none of us have shown any magical ability for generations.”
“Must have been a portal, then.”
“That makes sense. But Tony doesn’t have any magic either. Someone else must have put him up to it. Actually, that’s probably the best explanation. He’s not the type to steal magical artifacts, and he definitely isn’t the type to wait months to do it. He’s more of an instant gratification kind of guy.”
“All right, then.” Mateo stood, picking up the ballistic vest he’d taken off last night from the desk. “Bring me to his place, Little Thief. I’d better not find out you’re lying or giving me the runaround.”
I seethed at the nickname he’d given me. “Would you stop? I’m not a thief. What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
