Spells for the Dead - Faith Hunter Page 0,138

about doorbell cameras and security systems, but I am still occasionally flummoxed by the swift pattern of changes and developments.”

“Me too, and not because I’ve lived too long but because I lived off the grid for so long. Technology is confusing.”

We exchanged wry smiles and drank water from bottles offered by FireWind. The water wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t hot either.

“You got any idea how the man drove the truck? The man who tried to kill me? That’s magic, not electronics. And I still don’t understand.”

“No. T. Laine is working on discovering how it was accomplished. The four members of the local coven who helped on scene are joining her. They are all quite curious. One of them used the term homunculus.”

I looked that up to discover that it was a small, artificially produced human sometimes grown in a flask. A manikin. Which made no sense at all, when looking at two dead men driving trucks.

“Of course, they also used the term zombie. They were brainstorming.”

A black Lexus passed us, pulled into the Merriweathers’ drive, and parked. A long, lean woman in a pencil-thin black suit got out and adjusted her sunglasses, staring at us. The stare went on a little too long before she strode to the house and entered.

“Interesting,” FireWind said. And I had a feeling his interesting was of a sexual nature rather than an intellectual nature. FireWind liked strong women. And that was interesting to me. In a strictly intellectual capacity, of course. FireWind put a tiny device behind his ear and pressed an even smaller earpiece inside his ear canal. He said, “Testing. Do you copy? Excellent.” He looked at me. “We have intel backup with Jones at HQ. If anything needs to be verified or researched on the fly, she will be able to do so.”

More minutes passed. As we sat, a car pulled up behind us and parked. I had thought Occam was hyperaware, but my cat-man had nothing on FireWind, who went from relaxed to holding a weapon in about a quarter second. His eyes were on his rearview and the weapon vanished just as fast. I blinked, uncertain what I had just seen. “LaFleur,” he said to me, casually, as if he hadn’t just done a magician’s parlor trick. He glanced at me and that almost-smile lit his face again and was gone as he turned off the car and reached for the door handle.

“You’re playing games with me, ain’tcha?”

My boss halted his motion and turned his yellow eyes on me, an odd expression on his face. “Yes. I suppose I am. Oddly, I feel quite comfortable with you. I know that if I overstep my bounds you will tell me to my face.” He breathed out through his nose, a short, sharp sound. “You remind me of my wife that way. She was a straight-speaking, strong woman too. So few people speak their minds, men or women. In another time and place, you and I might have been good friends.”

“Ain’t no reason we can’t be friends now,” I said, opening my door. “As long as we both remember there are specific boundaries on that friendship. Meaning that you can and will fire me if I mess up, and that I can’t speak my mind in front of other people.” I stopped, my legs and feet swiveled around to the grass where we had parked, my back to him. “Frankly I find that one sorta hard.”

I had the pleasure of hearing FireWind’s laughter as I stood and closed my door. Rick and Margot were already standing in the street and the looks they sent me, at the sound of FireWind’s laughter, were priceless. I just shrugged, but I was sorta proud of making the big boss laugh. I had a feeling he didn’t do that often.

Rick looked good, better than I had seen him in a long time, since I had helped to heal him of supernatural bindings. He stood tall and straight, and had put on weight that he sorely needed, in his shoulders and back and thighs. He had been working out. His white hair blew in the afternoon breeze, too long for regs, nearly at his collar. He looked older than before his trauma, but he had the perfect skin of a were-creature. Rick LaFleur was chick candy. Or maybe it was a chick magnet? One of those words. And he and Margot looked good together. Not romantic or as if they were in a relationship, but comfortable,

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