particular thread would be on alert. I sensed that much. I didn’t want to bump into it when it was expecting company, whatever it was.
The next trail I kept well away from, and we followed it with care not to tangle in the other threads crisscrossing the streets and buildings. Whatever the fae man had done to me, he had more than opened my eyes. He had altered my perception, made the intangible tangible.
As we gained on the person/thing at the end of the trail, I noticed its glow brightened, and the motes grew less defined, more scattered. As though its past were set, but its future was as yet undetermined.
“This is too weird,” I told Ambrose, and for once he agreed with me.
The trail ended in an abandoned building, the motes diffuse around me, but nothing else moved.
“Well?” I risked the question out loud to Ambrose. “What do you sense?”
Hisses filled the darkened corners, and a clicking noise sent gooseflesh racing down my arms.
That was all the warning the Martian Roach gave me before launching its chitinous body at me.
Two thoughts battled for top billing in my head.
One: Frakking hell, that fae had given me the good stuff.
Two: Frakking hell, I was alone with a pissed-off Martian Roach.
Ambrose glided over to it and ran his hand down its spine.
The creature whipped its head toward him and issued an earsplitting shriek that summoned more motes, enough to turn the blackened ceiling into a starlit sky.
The roach had called for backup, lots of it, but all I had was Ambrose.
The shadow coiled around my shoulders, waiting for my play. I only had one, and we both knew it.
“Drain it.” We needed the specimen, and I had to be alive to call it in. “Don’t kill it.”
I couldn’t put off feeding him forever. Not after the energy he expended saving me during the explosion. That came with its own issues. I might as well get it over with, then worry about draining him to a manageable level.
Given the order, Ambrose dove into the creature, devouring its magic in chomps that filled my stomach with sympathetic pangs. Hungry as he was, he made quick work of it, and the creature went down hard. That was all well and good except its buddies were crawling out of the woodwork.
I had maxed out my friendship with Ford, and Midas was in no shape to help. Ares wasn’t a fan of mine at the moment, and Lisbeth wasn’t ready to report for duty. That left me with a pissed-off Bishop, and maybe Remy. If she answered her phone.
The magic saturating Ambrose swelled him like a tick and left him too dazed to be much use, except as a battery. That worked just fine for me.
I took the small jar of ink from my pocket and dipped my finger to draw a circle around the unconscious roach and myself, careful to keep Ambrose locked in too. I had to nudge him to push magic into the design until it snapped closed in a protective barrier the other roaches couldn’t penetrate.
First things first, I called the local sentinel HQ. They dispatched a unit of their Elite to help me crush the roaches. That took care of the most pressing danger but left me with a roach in the circle with me. Definitely a job for Bishop.
“Can you rent a U-Haul and meet me?” I gave him the address. “We need to move fast before it wakes.”
“You and I are going to have a talk,” he warned. “You’re getting in too deep with the fae.”
“I didn’t ask your friend to help, he just did it.”
As if Bishop already knew the friend’s identity, or could guess, he didn’t ask for specifics.
“No fae ever just does anything, kid. He’s marked you as a person of interest, or he wouldn’t bother.”
Magic tingled through my forehead where his fingers had touched my skin. “What does that mean?”
“Let him build enough debt between you, and he’s going to ask you for a favor in return.”
“How does him giving me this indebt me? I didn’t agree to anything.”
“You accepted his help. That’s all the opening he needs to worm his way into your life. Trust me.”
“He’s your friend.”
“He’s not my friend. He’s…” A spate of annoyed Gaelic filled my ear. “He’s trouble. Stay away from him.” He cursed, in English this time. “Don’t let the bastard touch you again. Gods only knows what else he did to you when he gave you this gift.”