Gunmetal Magic
Page 24
I tapped the paper. “What about Colin? Jim’s file said he’s in debt.”
“He’s in debt because his house caught fire. He took out an emergency loan from the Pack. He works hard and he knows that if he’s ever in trouble, he can come to me.”
I leaned my head back, but not too hard—wouldn’t do to mess up my hair against the headrest.
“We agreed to share information,” Raphael said.
“I don’t have much to share. Spent all day at the library trying to pin down Jamar’s art collection. Found eight items that weren’t in the vault, some with pictures. Nothing stood out. Got a set of prints that doesn’t belong to anyone on your payroll, but there are no hits in any of the databases. Analyzed a metric ton of trace evidence without any conclusive leads.”
“You will solve it,” he said. “If Jim hadn’t assigned you to this, I would’ve asked for you.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence. So nobody can confirm that you went home?”
Raphael shrugged. “No. Had I known I’d have to provide an alibi, I would’ve made sure not to spend the night alone.”
“I’m surprised you did.”
He didn’t rise to the bait. “It’s been forty-eight hours and we have no leads.”
His tone told me he wasn’t criticizing. His people were dead. Raphael was angry, frustrated, and hurting. “I wouldn’t say that. You know how it goes—slow and steady wins the race.”
“I know.” He looked at the road. “I had to sign the death benefit papers today.”
That had to have sucked. “Nick came to see me. He’s having a rough time.”
“He isn’t the only one,” Raphael said. “I should’ve known about the vault. I should’ve known it was there.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” I told him. “I pored over Jamar’s press releases all day and I never once saw the vault mentioned. You didn’t miss it. The information just wasn’t there to begin with.”
“You really think Anapa had something to do with it?”
“I don’t know if he did. He has no criminal record. He has no parking tickets. His company is squeaky clean, although I didn’t have time to dig too deep. In addition, I spent an hour on him in the library today and I found zip. He wouldn’t see me, but he knows he’s under scrutiny. His people know who I am, too.”
Raphael glanced at me.
“His mouthpiece made sure to remind me that I no longer had the Order on my side.”
“Ah.”
Ah what? Ah—too bad? Ah—I understand? Ah—serves you right? “They know who I am; they know I’m tenacious. Why not spend ten minutes answering my questions? Then I go away, and everyone’s happy.”
“You think he’s hiding something?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. I’m collecting information and I’ve run into a roadblock. Short of staging a break-in, this party is my best bet.”
Raphael snorted. “A break-in. You?”
“I thought about it,” I said. “I think he has the roof heavily warded and there are a lot of surveillance cameras. He did leave a very nice route open for me, with cameras not covering it even, so I’m pretty sure it’s trapped six ways to Sunday. I’d probably go through the basement instead. But again, since he isn’t in the office much, there’s not much point.”
Raphael stared at me. I wished he would stop doing that. Every time he turned to me, my heart kept trying to pirouette out of my chest in a futile attempt to flop itself at his feet. Meanwhile my hands wanted to wrap around his throat and strangle him. It was good that my brain was in charge.
“Who are you and what have you done with Andrea?”
“I’m the new and more-screwed-up version. Or much improved, depending on the way one looks at it.”
He stared straight ahead. “I thought being screwed up was something we had in common.”
“No, I was always the fucked-up one. You were the spoiled one.”
The line of Raphael’s jaw hardened. “I’ve worked since I was sixteen, six days a week. I’ve built my company from nothing with ten thousand dollars of seed money I borrowed from the Pack, just like everyone else, and I’ve paid back five times that. I am supporting the entire Clan Bouda now. Nobody gave me any special treatment. How exactly am I spoiled?”
I blinked at him. “Seriously?”
“Yes. Please, enlighten me.”
“You remember last year you wanted to take that vacation in the Keys for a week?”
He glanced at me. “You’re going to hold our vacation against me? You loved it.”
I did. It was just me and him and the ocean. “Do you remember that bouda family wanted to join the clan about the same time? The De La Torre family?”
An individual shapeshifter joining the Pack was a relatively simple affair. He presented himself to the alphas of his clan, and if they said yes, they would then in turn sponsor the shapeshifter before the Pack. With families and small packs, the process became complicated. Multiple background checks and individual interviews later, a special date had to be set, and alphas or betas of other clans had to be present.
Raphael shrugged. “What about the De La Torres?”
“Aunt B had the date set and you had to be there to sponsor them with her.”
“Yes.”
“And you told your mother that she was welcome to do whatever she wanted but you were going on your vacation.”
“I’d worked seven-day weeks for two months nonstop.”
I bared my teeth at him. “Are you going to let me make my point or do I have to bite you to keep you from interrupting?”
“If you bite me, I’ll bite back. And I grow bigger teeth.”
Oh, it’s like that, then. “But I’m much more motivated.”
He snarled. I snarled back and snapped my human teeth at him. A little crazy light sparked in Raphael’s eyes, but I couldn’t figure out what it meant. I used to be able to read him better. I used to know exactly what he was thinking—it registered on his face and if it didn’t, he would tell me. He was more closed in now, self-contained and hidden. There was a steely resolve there, and a hint of danger under the surface. Raphael had become unpredictable. It was exciting. Exciting was so not the emotion I was looking for.
“What, nothing to say?” he asked.
“I’m waiting to see if you’re going to do something or just flash your pretty teeth.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
I gave a mocking sigh. “Oh, I would. But then I would have to bring your battered body to your fiancée and I hate hysterics. Or did you mean the other sort of tempting?”
Raphael laughed. It was a wild laugh that promised all sorts of evil things. Fun evil things.
Something loomed in front of us.
“Bus!” I barked.
He looked at the windshield and swerved, avoiding an overturned bus by a couple of inches.
Tiny needles of adrenaline prickled my skin. I shuddered, trying to shake them off. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Spots ghosted just under my skin, making faint stains on my arms.
“What was the point of bringing up the vacation?” Raphael asked.
“Your mother rescheduled everything. She traded a favor to Curran for a special dispensation so the family could stay for another week in the Pack’s territory. She convinced Valencia to bump her ballet recital—forty students had to change their schedule to match the new date. B schemed and shuffled things around. It didn’t matter how many people were going to be inconvenienced, but her baby boy would have his vacation, by God.” I laughed. “I’d walked in on her fighting with Valencia. It almost came to blood. I offered to move the vacation. She looked at me like I had grown a Christmas tree on my head.”
I imitated Aunt B’s voice. “Oh no, dear. You know how hard Raphael works. You two go down there and have a good time.”
Raphael stared grimly through the windshield, steering around potholes in the magic-pitted pavement with surgical precision.
No comment, huh?
“You grew up sheltered and you don’t even know how lucky you are. Your mother loves you more than life itself. She celebrates the fact that you exist.” Considering that both of Raphael’s brothers had gone loup in childhood and B had had to kill them, I couldn’t hold that against her. “You’re smart, handsome, and respected. You’re a dangerous fighter and you’ve made yourself wealthy—”
“Comfortable,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Okay, comfortable. Women throw themselves in your path. I bet when you brought your fiancée to Aunt B, she didn’t even blink an eye, when anybody else would have gotten tossed out of the Bouda House.”
“Is there a point to you stroking my ego?”
“It’s not stroking. These are plain facts, darling. Raphael, you are adored. You have everything.”
“Not everything,” he said.
“Everything,” I repeated. “If you aren’t spoiled, I don’t know who is. That’s why you can never put yourself in my shoes. All this good fortune gave you blinders. To you, ‘bouda’ means people who think you are a demigod. To me ‘bouda’ means people who break your bones for fun.”
He turned to me again, his blue eyes dark. “This bouda clan never abused you. This Pack offered to protect you and take you in. You betrayed them.”
And we were back to square one.
“We’re here.” Raphael nodded ahead. At the end of the street, a spacious mansion rose against the sky, all carved white stone and gold accents. Beautiful.
A gated parking lot waited for us, complete with an attendant in a small booth, armed with an arbalest. If we parked in that lot, we would be trapped.
“Not in the lot,” I murmured.
“Yeah. Might have to leave fast.” Raphael turned off onto the side street. Good idea. If we had to leave in a hurry, it would be quicker than maneuvering out of a parking lot.