“Really?” I asked, suddenly very interested.
“The way I understand it, there are the Twelve, aka the darkness, but there are also twelve sentient beings of light to balance the scales, sent to protect you, the daughter.”
“That seems like a lot of trouble to go to. And the thirteenth?”
“He is the single being that will tip the scales either to the light or the dark.”
No kidding.
* * *
By the time I got back to my building, Pari was there waiting on me. She lived only a block away, which made it nice, especially when I needed her help with something. Or when I needed a back rub. She had incredible hands.
I’d tried to call Uncle Bob, but he didn’t pick up. I needed to know how it went with the captain. And if he really hired that fake psychic. She totally bleached her hair. I also called Quentin on video chat. He was doing fine as well and asked about Amber.
“Just don’t go around her mother anytime soon. You’ll be skinned alive.”
He winced, and signed, “I understand. I’m really sorry.”
“I know you are, sweet boy, and if Cookie gets ahold of you, you’ll be even sorrier.”
“Okay.”
I blew him a kiss and hung up.
Pari had put on her sunglasses, as she did whenever she was around me. She could see my light, said it blinded her. She spotted Garrett as we got out, and her eyes danced a bit before asking, “So, what are we doing?”
“I’m being bugged by everyone from APD to the Mendoza crime family.”
“You do like to piss people off.”
“I didn’t do anything to either one of them. The Man’s got it in for me.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” she said, offering yours truly a tender-ish pat on the back. Either that or she was trying to dislodge my larynx.
I coughed and introduced them. “Pari, this is Fitz. He’s my new driver. I’ve decided I need a driver at my beck and call, and he’s really cheap.”
“I’m Garrett,” he said when he took her hand.
She surveyed him from head to toe.
“Fitz, this is Pari. She’s a killer tattoo artist and has only been to prison twice.”
“I’ve never been to prison,” she corrected, unable to take her eyes off him. “You have an incredible aura.”
That was it. I’d seen enough to feel slighted for her main squeeze. “What about Tre?” I asked her, appalled. She’d been dating her employee for a while now. The whole thing screamed sexual harassment lawsuit, but they’d seemed happy.
“His aura is fine. Garrett’s here, however, is quite unique.”
“Really?” I asked, squinting my eyes. I could see auras. Kind of.
“Quite unique.”
“My bugs?” I asked her.
“Oh, right.” She unloaded her bag and brought out a handheld device that I assumed swept for bugs. Then again, she could be a total charlatan. How would I know?
“I am thinking about adding surveillance of some kind. Like motion detectors and cameras. I’m tired of people breaking in without so much as a by-your-leave.”
“Normally, I’d say a camera was a bit much, but in your case, I’d recommend two and possibly some type of explosive booby trap.”
She turned on the device and started waving it over and under the most obvious places to hide a bug. She found one almost immediately and reached under my windowsill. It looked like a small black button.
“Very state of the art,” she said. She handed it to Garrett, who agreed with a nod.
“I doubt this came from your captain,” he said. “The government would never spring for such high-dollar equipment.”
“The Mendozas?” I whispered, not wanting them to hear me.
He held it up to the light and turned it in his fingers, admiring it. “Most likely.”
“Okay,” I said to Pari, “put it back exactly as you found it and make sure it still works. I’m going to need it later.”
She gave me a thumbs-up, then whispered, “It’s extremely sophisticated. It has a range of—” She stopped and let her gaze slide past me.
“Of?” I asked, before realizing she’d spotted my roomie.
“What is that?” she asked, straightening.
“That is a Mr. Wong. He’s my apartment mate.”
Pari had been able to see the departed since a near-death accident when she was twelve, but she could see only a slight disturbance in her vision, a light grayish mist.
“He’s a departed?” she asked.
“Yeah. He just kind of hangs in my corner. All day. Every day. He doesn’t get out much.” When she didn’t reply, I glanced back at her. She’d removed her sunglasses and stood transfixed. “What?” I asked. “You see the departed all the time.”