“This way,” Daniel said, pulling her into the more certain dark. “I don’t want to chance stealing a car too close to the station, but maybe we can find one on the streets.”
“I don’t know how to steal a car,” she said, and he turned to her, his disbelief hard to see in the dim glow from the light at the corner.
“I thought you minored in security.”
Her lips pressed. “I was sick the day they covered hot-wiring cars. Here, you take it,” she said as she pushed the finding charm into his hand. “I can’t shoot and navigate at the same time.”
“Me?” Daniel almost squeaked, shifting the cool metal circle from hand to hand as if it were hot. “I can’t do mag—” His voice cut off and he stopped dead in the middle of the empty street, staring down at the ring in his hands. “Wow, it works.”
“Congratulations, you’re alive,” Orchid piped up from under his hat.
Trisk smiled as she tugged him back into motion. “Anyone with an aura can work ley line magic once it’s invoked,” she said as he stumbled up onto the curb behind her. She wasn’t sure what she’d do after finding Kal, but shooting him was now an option. “Which way?”
Daniel moved forward, stopped, turned, then turned back the other way, never taking his eyes off the ring in his hand. “That way,” he said, only now looking up.
Kal was either in the building ahead of them or somewhere behind it. Betting it was the latter, Trisk drew Daniel into the alley. The darkness was deeper here, and their pace slowed as they made their way through the dampness. Trisk could smell river over the fading stink of cars and gas. There was almost no sound, and the sky was cloudy, showing very little of the expected light pollution. No wonder the Weres were looking for an excuse to be out roaming in the night. No buses, no cars, no cabs: it was as if the world were empty.
“Daniel,” she whispered as they neared the end of the alley, the brighter darkness beckoning them. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if humans knew we existed.”
He frowned, gaze fixed on the charm. “Yeah, okay,” he said distantly.
“I mean, look at you,” she said. “You’re probably the first human in two thousand years doing a charm. You’ve met witches and Weres. You’re handling it. Maybe we misjudged you.”
Daniel halted at the top of the alley, clearly reluctant to step out even if the charm was glowing a bright red now, indicating they were close. “A person is okay,” he said, peering into the darkness and the open street. “But when you put a bunch of us together, something is switched on, something ugly.” He glanced at her apologetically. “All of us, humans and nonhumans alike, are genetically primed to attack what’s different from the collective.”
“But what if the collective is all of us?” she persisted.
“I smell Kal,” Orchid suddenly said, and Daniel reached for his hat, keeping it on his head as Orchid vaulted out from under it. “Is that him?” she said, hovering between them and staring at nothing Trisk could see. “It is!” she exclaimed, darting off.
“Son of a beaver biscuit . . .” Daniel swore. “I wish she’d stop doing that.”
“Orchid!” Trisk hissed, but it was too late. At the end of the street under a flickering light, a shadow hunched at a car straightened, then ducked. Kal’s muffled swearing rose, and the dark silhouette flailed at the bright, hot dot of angry pixy.
“Hey!” Daniel shouted when Kal swung a tire iron, and Kal spun, freezing for a moment before taking off at a run. Daniel was close behind, the sound of the sneakers he’d found somewhere odd in the still air. Trisk hesitated for half a second, then pounded after him.
“?‘Hey’?” she said between her breaths as she caught up. “You said ‘Hey’? We could have snuck up on him.”
Kal darted into a side street, and skidding, they followed. “He was trying to hit Orchid,” Daniel said, and then louder, “Kalamack!”
They’d almost reached him, and with a shout of anger and frustration, Daniel launched himself at Kal’s fleeing feet. His outstretched hand caught his ankle, and he hung on as Kal hit the ground, his breath coming out in a whoosh. The tire iron clanged, spinning away as the two men fell to the pavement, rolling.
Tense, Trisk slid to a stop. No magic. I promised no magic.
“Why don’t you just eat a tomato and die?” Kal snarled, and Trisk’s eyes widened when she felt him tap a line. He was going to use magic. In the open streets.
“Kal, stop!” she shrieked, tapping a line as well but knowing that to use it would make things worse. “Kal! They destroyed Detroit,” she shouted, and the thump of a fist on flesh sounded ugly to her ears. “For God’s sake, don’t!”
I have a gun, she remembered, and she pointed it at the two men tussling in the street. “Stop, Kal. Or I’ll shoot your head off! I’ll do it!”