Unfortunately, Lusa seemed to realize that. “No,” she said. “There is more to it than that. You know something, and I’m betting it’s newsworthy. I’ve got a nose for this type of thing.”
I scoffed under my breath. “Lusa, I doubt your nose is real.”
Her perfectly straight teeth clicked audibly, and color Her perfectly straight teeth clicked audibly, and color bloomed in her cheeks. The color faded again instantly, her camera-ready persona snapping back in place.
“Wel , how about this,” she said, dropping her mic to her side. “How about I run my next story with the spin ‘Alex Craft seen poking around the scene, likely checking what damage her latest tear into the Aetheric is causing’ ? ”
At my side, Falin stiffened, his fingers digging into my shoulder hard enough to hurt, though I didn’t think he was aware he’d tightened his grip. I fought wincing—which would have looked like guilt to the camera—and tried to step out of his grasp. It didn’t work; he might as wel have turned into a solid ice sculpture.
“You can’t run that story,” he said, his voice a low warning.
“Detective Andrews, the public has the right to the truth.”
“Except that isn’t the truth. I didn’t open that tear.”
“Wel , the public also has the right to draw their own conclusions.” She smiled, a big, hungry display of teeth.
“You can’t run that story. I’ve already been pul ed off the street once by someone who wanted me to open a hole to the Aetheric.” I was appealing to her better nature, which I wasn’t sure she stil had under her reporter instincts, but it was Falin who responded to my words.
He stepped around me, his eyes catching, and locking, on mine. Right—I hadn’t told him about my little chat with Bel . Not that now was the time to go into it. I focused on Lusa, who seemed much less concerned about my safety.
“Give me a better story and I’l run with it instead.”
“I can’t just conjure up a story.”
“Wel , then, I guess I already have my sound bite.”
I glared at her. “You broke a major story when you discovered the tear—which I’d love to learn how you found, by the way, because that little tidbit wasn’t in your broadcast and I can’t see you heading out this evening thinking, ‘I know, I’l go poke around abandoned warehouse lots and see if a story turns up.’ Especial y not in those lots and see if a story turns up.’ Especial y not in those heels.” I nodded at her purple slingbacks. “You got your story, and because of Bel ’s barricade, Witch Watch is the only show that has footage of the rip up close. So why do you have to put a target over my head just to ride the coattails of your own success?”
“The tear wil be old news soon unless I dig up something to add as a new development. My original footage is already viral and streaming from countless places on the Net. I need something fresh. Now I imagine you’re here for one of the cases you’re working.” She lifted the hand holding her mic, not to shove the mic in my face but to point at me with one of her perfectly manicured nails. “Scratch my back and I’l scratch yours. And because you asked, I’l tel you how I found the tear—that is, as long as what you give me is good.”
I glanced at Falin. He scowled at Lusa, his face hard, ungiving, and total y unreceptive to her idea. I, on the other hand, was inclined to capitulate. I’d worked with Lusa before, and I knew she kept her word. Which meant she’d help me out if I helped her, but it also meant she wasn’t kidding about using me as a sound bite. But perhaps more important than that, while the woman could be extremely irritating if you were the story she’d latched on to, she was a damn fine researcher and investigative journalist.
And I happened to have a page ful of runes I needed researched.
“Off the record,” I said, nodding at the blinking light on the camera behind Lusa.
“Micky, take a break,” Lusa said, handing her mic to her cameraman. “Come on, Craft. There are fewer people closer to the bridge.”
I started to fol ow her, but Falin grabbed my arm, stal ing me.
“You real y think this is the wisest plan?” he asked, his voice a hissed whisper beside my ear.
I considered the decision again, staring at him as I tried I considered the decision again, staring at him as I tried to puzzle out which part he objected to. I hadn’t learned anything from the file he took from the FIB office, so it wasn’t like he could say any of the information I had on the case was privileged—everything I had I’d learned myself, mostly just by living through the events. Runes were witch magic, so though the glamour proved the constructs had some tie to the fae, the individual runes didn’t, so sharing them didn’t breach any rules about “issues best kept amongst the fae” as Malik had put it. No, I didn’t see anything at al he could object to about my sharing the runes with Lusa.
“I’m sure.” In fact, I didn’t see any downside. If I gave her the runes and she turned up nothing, then I’d lost nothing.
But if she did find something . . . wel , that could be very beneficial.