you back.”
The phone beeped, and the screen announced, Call Lost.
Weird.
Jay wasn’t used to cloak-and-dagger, at least in the metaphorical sense. Cover businesses and cryptic, androgynous phone voices made him antsy.
He wanted to hunt, the way a cheetah hunts, just for the pure joy of tearing into something and bringing it down. He needed to take on Midnight; it was a cancer in the free world, run by vicious, evil creatures who didn’t hesitate to violate any natural law in their quest for domination. But that hunt required careful planning, and coordination with other hunters. Caution. Patience. And now, wandering, waiting for someone else to give him information.
The winter morning was crisp and freeze-the-bones cold, so even with his heavy jacket on Jay had to use a thread of power to keep himself from shivering.
You all right?
The faint mental touch from Lynx made him smile. Restless, he answered, but not hurt. Where are you?
Not far. Lynx liked Haven #2. There were just enough big-predator shapeshifters for their scents to scare away coyotes, the only local predator that could be a danger to him. Also, Caryn knew Lynx, and always kept a stash of turkey jerky on hand. Do you need me?
I’m okay, Jay answered, just as his phone started vibrating. It was the same voice as before.
“If you’re sure you want to meet with her, I can set you up with someone who specializes in archaic magic. But I’ll warn you, she might eat you alive.”
“Literally or figuratively?”
“That depends on whether or not she likes you.”
“Fantastic. How do I set up the meeting?”
The individual on the other side of the line took information about Jay’s location and means of transportation, then gave him an address and the instruction to, “leave within the hour if you don’t want to be late.” Then the caller hung up, without saying whether Jay was looking for a short balding woman with a rose between her teeth or a giant ferret.
Going hunting? Lynx asked in response to Jay’s increased excitement.
Going talking first, he replied. But hopefully we’ll hunt soon.
CHAPTER 13
JAY COULDN’T BEGIN to recall where he had left his gloves, though he wished he did when he set his hands to the steering wheel. He half expected his GPS to swear at him for waking it up when it was so cold.
He programmed in the address from the mysterious telephone voice and let out a whine when he realized it was almost three hours away. He wouldn’t get there until noon, if he didn’t hit traffic.
After an hour on the highway, he turned on to progressively smaller, more winding roads. Midday became early afternoon, and he hadn’t yet arrived, because he had needed to drop his speed to avoid spinning out on the increasingly common patches of black ice on the badly plowed, poorly marked back roads.
Whoever he was visiting, she didn’t like visitors. Jay missed the unmarked driveway the first time and had to turn around. His tires got a beating as he bumped his way across potholes big enough to bury a body in.
Finally he reached the house, which was overhung by several bare maple trees.
I hope this is the right place, Jay thought as he walked up the narrow, recently shoveled path. There didn’t seem to be a bell, so he knocked on the door.
The person who answered the door was a young woman, maybe twenty years old at most, whose brown eyes had dark circles beneath them. She exuded no particular thoughts but a sense of bone-deep weariness that made Jay want to curl up and sleep for a month just looking at her.
“Are you the person I’m supposed to meet?” he asked.
She stared at him for long, silent moments before saying, “I doubt it. Rikai’s in her study. I think she’s expecting someone.”
Rikai!
The phone caller’s warning made sense now; like vampires, Tristes needed to feed, but they did so by absorbing raw power instead of by taking blood. Of the three Wild Cards, Jay had been excited to meet Xeke but hadn’t ever wanted to meet Rikai.
Nervously, Jay followed his guide to the study.
The walls in the hallway were painted a cool gray-rose color above wood paneling that had been stained silvery birch. The floor was carpeted in a two-tone beige. The overall effect was stylish but not warm.
Rikai’s study was lit by only two candles—a fat pillar on top of the fireplace mantel, and a beeswax taper on a short table near the door. They barely illuminated the full wall