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.
Falin continued to frown and Lusa sauntered back to us.
She pursed her lips. She hadn’t heard what we’d said, but our body language probably told her al she needed to know about our conversation.
“Detective Andrews,” she said, studying him, “I heard you were jettisoned from the force for going MIA during the Coleman case.”
Falin didn’t answer, but pul ed his jacket aside to reveal the FIB shield at his waist.
“My mistake, Agent,” she said before turning back to me.
“Are we stil on for a little tit for tat?”
“Yeah. I’l be right there.” I shot her a smile and then focused on Falin again. “It’s a good idea,” I told him.
“Weren’t you going to get a warrant?”
“I’m more concerned with getting you out of here.”
And I was more concerned with my friends not spending a moment longer than necessary carrying some shadowy, crystal ized spel that was just waiting to overwhelm them at an unknown moment.
“I’l keep my head down,” I promised.
He huffed out a breath and rol ed his eyes. “Because He huffed out a breath and rol ed his eyes. “Because you’re so good at that.”
As if to accent his point, Lusa chose that moment to turn and cal out, “Miss Craft.”
Falin and I both cringed. Okay, so keeping my head down wasn’t one of my strong suits.
“I have to go,” I said, and then jogged to catch up with Lusa. Falin didn’t stop me this time.
Lusa headed away from the news vans and cop cars to where the fence ended at the steel supports of the Lenore Street Bridge. The traffic on Lenore had died down.
Everyone who was interested in seeing the commotion had apparently already arrived, so the bridge was stil , quiet, and rather dark. Safety lights dotted the span at evenly spaced intervals, but I could have wished for a little more light, especial y as Lusa trudged deeper and the bridge towered over us.
I had to say one thing for her—I’d told her I wanted this off the books, and she’d found a place where no one was likely to overhear or disturb us. And she wasn’t done yet. Once we stopped, she fished a silver necklace from the top of her blouse, pul ing the chain until a half dozen charms spil ed over her col ar. The air around us hummed as she tapped into the raw magic in her earrings and channeled it into one of her waiting charms. A spel buzzed to life around us.
“You’re a sensitive, right?” she asked and I nodded.
“Good, then you know that I activated a privacy bubble.
No one but us can hear what we say. Now, why are you real y here?”
I’d rather have heard how she found the hole in reality first, but I wasn’t in a position to demand she show me hers before I showed her mine. Opening my purse, I dug out the page of runes I’d copied. Then I unfolded the paper and passed it to Lusa.