Summoning the Night
Page 25

That was a good question. And I hadn’t told him it was multiple bodies, rather than just one.
I felt woozy. That much vassal would be worth thousands in esoteric circles. It wasn’t an easy medicinal to make. One of the herbal components was rare, and the spell to transform the brew was tricky and required finely tuned skills. Making magical medicinals was one of the few talents that I was able to learn successfully on my own, and I was good at it, but it still wasn’t easy.
My phone chimed again. Lon was probably having a panic attack at this point, wondering why I wasn’t answering. I thought of the glass talon he’d bought to save me in the incident last month, and the $15,000 he’d shelled out for it. Fifteen thousand dollars that now sat in Jupe’s new savings account. But even if I could somehow negotiate a cash price for Hajo’s services, I couldn’t afford them, and I couldn’t ask Lon to pay up again. He’d helped me when I needed it, and now it was time for me to return the favor. It killed me; went against everything I knew, deep within, was right. But I obviously wasn’t about to consider Hajo’s original barter, and I didn’t have much more to offer.
“I only have half an ounce,” I said.
“Can you brew up more by tomorrow?”
I shook my head.
“No deal,” he said.
I gritted my teeth in frustration. “What about half an ounce, and I’ll bind an Earthbound for you.”
His eyes widened in surprise. He studied my face, thinking. “I’ll take the half ounce and three bindings. Night or day, I call and you come. You keep your mouth shut and don’t ask questions.”
I hesitated. Hajo’s quiet threat of being able to track me down added to the pressure.
“Two,” I said. “And no weird shit—I’m not binding someone for you to molest, rape, torture, or kill.”
He laughed brightly, with far more casual happiness than I was feeling at that moment. It was the laughter of someone who’d just won and knew it. “I’m not a monster, Cady. Just an entrepreneur. I’ll gladly agree to your terms. Deal?”
His hand extended. I lowered my caduceus, but I didn’t shake. “You’d better track down what I need, or the deal is off.”
“I’ll find the dead body for you. And in the meantime,” he added, “we’ll get to spend some quality time getting to know each other.”
My phone rang. “Meet me at the Singing Bean in the Village tomorrow at two.”
“No can do,” he said. “I’ve got another job. Day after tomorrow is the earliest I can do it.”
I started to argue, but he cut me off.
“I really can’t,” he said firmly. “Day after tomorrow. Same time and place. And just to put you at ease, I’ll even bring Bob along,” he suggested, zipping his racing jacket back up to his throat. “Besides, I’ll need a test subject for your vassal potion, just to verify the quality.”
Fine by me. The rat fink deserved it for selling me out.
“I’m so sorry,” Bob called out behind me as he ran to catch up outside Hajo’s building. “You’ve got to believe me.”
Lights from a city bus danced across the sidewalk as it passed. I turned the corner and headed in the direction of my parked car. A man had already yelled at us from a second-story apartment window to shut up. Last thing I needed was for someone to call the cops, so I increased my stride.
I was furious. At Bob, at Hajo, and at myself for caving in to Hajo’s bartering. For feeling terrified that he could track me one day. My parents were dead, but I was still the same scared girl I was when they were alive, hiding in shadows. You’d think, at the very least, that their deaths would release me from the lie I’d been living on their behalf for the past seven years. That I could relax and be normal. That an idle threat from a junkie wouldn’t rattle me.
But it did. Because I was still living under an alias. Still on some FBI list or another.
Still afraid.
“Please listen.” Bob’s hand gripped my shoulder. I pushed it off and spun to face him.
He launched into a rapid explanation. “Hajo asked about the vassal when I called him earlier to set up the meeting. He’d heard stories about you. I tried to tell him that I didn’t know anything, but he hung up on me. So I called him back. I told him that I remembered you mentioning it, but I didn’t know what it was. I still don’t.” He wiped his hand on the front of his blue Hawaiian shirt and looked at me with pleading eyes. “I swear, Cady. You’ve got to believe me. Please!”
“But you told him you’ve slept with me?” I said, my voice a higher pitch than I intended.
“What?” His hand stilled in the middle of running it over his slicked-back hair. His mouth opened. He was genuinely taken aback. “Did he say that? I never said that. Never! He’s lying, and—”
“All right, all right,” I grumbled, waving him away. I don’t know why I even cared. It wasn’t important.
“I wouldn’t talk trash about you—I mean, we’re friends . . . aren’t we?”
“I thought so,” I snapped. But when he flinched in response and his face fell, guilt wormed its way into my chest. “We are,” I amended after a pause. “Friends, that is. So don’t sell me out to someone like Hajo again.”
“Never. Give me a lie detector test. I’ll do anything.”
I stopped in front of his car, suddenly bone-weary.