Ring?
I sighed and picked it up. "Kate Daniels."
"Hello, Kate," said a familiar velvet voice. "I hope I didn't wake you."
Saiman. Just about the last person I wanted to talk to.
Saiman had an encyclopedic knowledge of magic. He was also a shapeshifter - of sorts. I had done a job for him, back when I worked for the Mercenary Guild full-time, and he found me amusing. Because I entertained him, he offered me his services as a magic expert at a criminal discount. Unfortunately, the last time we had met was in the middle of the flare, atop a high-rise, where Saiman was dancing naked in the snow. With the largest erection I had ever seen on a human being. He didn't want to let me off that roof either. I had to jump to get away from him.
I kept my voice civil. Kate Daniels, master of diplomacy. "I don't want to speak to you. In fact, I don't wish to continue our association at all."
"That's very unfortunate. However, I have something that might belong to you and I would like to return this item to your custody."
What in the world? "Mail it to me."
"I would but he would prove difficult to fit into an envelope."
He? He wasn't good.
"He refuses to speak, but perhaps I can describe him to you: about eighteen, dark, short hair, menacing scowl, large brown eyes. Quite attractive in a puppy way. Judging by the way the tapedum lucidum behind his retinas catches the light, he's a shapeshifter. I'm guessing a wolf.
You brought him with you during our last unfortunate encounter. I'm truly sorry about it, by the way."
Derek. My one-time teenage werewolf sidekick. What the hell was he doing at Saiman's apartment?
"Hold the phone to him, please." I kept my voice even. "Derek, answer me so I know he isn't bluffing. Are you hurt?"
"No." Derek's voice was laced with a growl. "I can handle this. Don't come here. It isn't safe."
"It's remarkable that he has so much concern for your welfare, provided that he's the one sitting in a cage," Saiman murmured. "You keep the most interesting friends, Kate."
"Saiman?"
"Yes?"
"If you hurt him, I'll have twenty shapeshifters in your apartment foaming at the mouth at
your scent."
"Don't worry. I have no desire to bring the Pack's wrath on my head. Your friend is unharmed and contained. I will, however, turn him over to proper authorities unless you come and pick him up by sunrise."
"I'll be there."
Saiman's voice held a slight mocking edge. "I'm looking forward to it."
Chapter 2
I MADE IT BY 3:00 A.M.
Saiman occupied a suite on the fifteenth floor of the only high-rise still standing in Buckhead.
Magic hated tall buildings - magic hated anything large and technologically complex, period
- and gnawed them down to nubs of concrete and steelwork only four to five stories high.
They jutted sadly here and there along Midtown, like decrepit obelisks of some long-forgotten civilization.
Formerly Lenox Pointe and now Champion Heights, Saiman's building, which had been remodeled more times than I could count, was shielded by a complex spell, which tricked the magic into thinking the high-rise was a giant rock. During the magic waves, parts of the high-rise looked like a granite crag. During the flare, parts of it were a granite crag. But today, with the magic down, it looked like a high-rise.