Magic Strikes(37)
sides and would tell us all about the Reapers and Gar's murder if we got her out.»
«And you told him no.»
Jim drained a third of his glass. «I told him it was too risky. The Reapers travel together, fifteen,
twenty, sometimes thirty per group, always armed.»
«As if they know they're going in and out of enemy territory.»
Jim nodded.
«And they can't be tracked by scent? They have to have a base of some sort.»
Jim looked like he'd just bitten a lime. «The problem isn't tracking. The problem is the location
of their base.»
«Where is it?» Why did I have a feeling this wouldn't be good? With my luck, the next thing to
come out of his mouth would be something crazy, like Unicorn Lane . . .
«In Unicorn-«
I held my hand out. «Got it.»
Unicorn Lane gave no quarter. Savage magic roiled there, streaming through the gutted corpses
of skyscrapers, too powerful to harness, too dangerous to fight. Ordinary objects became suffused
with lethal power. Horrible things that shunned the light hid in Unicorn, feeding on lesser monsters
and spinning foul magics of their own. Lunatic cultists with secret power, deranged loups, cast-out
Masters of the Dead, when they had nowhere to go, when every friend and every family member
turned them away, when the apprehension directive on their profiles became «Shoot on sight» and
desperation muddled their minds, only then did they try to enter Unicorn Lane. Most became
nourishment for abominations. The rare few who survived went mad, if they weren't already.
There was a reason why Andorf the Bear who had rampaged at the last legal Games chose
Unicorn Lane as his refuge. There was a reason why Curran had set our first meeting on the
outskirts of Unicorn, just deep enough to weed out the scared and kill the stupid.
To follow thirty monsters in human skin into Unicorn Lane in the middle of the night was a cruel
and unusual way to commit suicide.
«Scouting their base is right out,» Jim said. «But suppose we did somehow spring the girl before
they hit Unicorn Lane. We just kidnapped one of their own. Guilty or not, human or not, they would
go to war with us after that. We can't afford another damn war.»
«Not without cause,» Doolittle put in.
«All he had were some funny smells and a girl with a big mouth. I told the kid to stop chasing
tail and bring me some proof. He went there one more time, but I could tell the girl made an
impression.»
«I've seen her,» I told him. «I can't blame him.»
Jim started. «How?»
«You finish first, then I'll tell you my side.»
Jim shrugged. «Derek clammed up. I saw reason wasn't getting through-he would try to rescue
her one way or another, and I pulled him out of it. The tickets to the Games are hard to get and go
for three grand apiece. I knew he didn't have three grand lying around, and even if he managed, the
type of ticket he could get wouldn't let him into the lower level. I put a tail on him, told him to chill,
and thought that was the end of it.»
Ahh, but Derek had seen Saiman at the Games and recognized him by scent. He knew Saiman in
his Durand persona owned part of the House and had «go anywhere» tickets.
«While Derek was cooling off, I put Linna into the Games in his place.» Jim placed a second
photograph in front of me. A corpse of a woman lay on the surgical table. The outline of her body
was distorted, uneven. I studied the photo and realized she was in pieces. The body had been
severed into sections and reassembled bit by bit.
«They carved her into twelve pieces,» Doolittle said. «Each piece exactly six inches long. She
was probably alive while they did it. And no, she didn't change shapes either. Her clothes were still
on her.»
«I was picking her off the pavement when you came by.» Jim clenched his teeth. «Then my tail
returned. The kid lost him. And then we found Derek.»
I didn't need further explanation. Jim's crew had chased the scent, retracing the trail of Derek's
assailants, and found me dipping my fingertips into his blood.
«What do you have?» Jim asked.
I told him. When I came to the part where I led Curran to Linna's dump site, Jim closed his eyes
and looked as if he wanted to strangle me. I kept going until the whole story was out on the table.
Jim decided he needed more tea. He probably needed something a lot stronger, but he'd have to
fight Doolittle for it. The Pack doctor took a dim view of alcohol consumption.
«Did you tell Curran?»
«No.»
«Does he know about this office?» Please say yes.
«No. This is one of my private places.»