Page 21 of Courting Danger
I withdrew my magic slowly, giving the plant the magical equivalent of a pat on the back before I squared my shoulders and climbed over the fence. I could feel the moment I hit McCallum’s second wards. But something about them was strange.
Instead of sending me spinning, or hurting me like I expected them to, they just felt uncomfortable for a moment as I pushed my way through. I had expected to have to take them down by force, to have to use my pool of magic to shatter them. If they kept out people who wanted to harm McCallum, I definitely fit that bill.
But instead, it was mere discomfort, as though they no longer held the primary directive of keeping McCallum safe. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe his wards didn’t have the clause that said, “keep this guy from getting his head blown off,” because McCallum had too many people who wanted to see him dead.
I couldn’t imagine being in business with so many people who wanted me six feet under that I didn’t even bother with wards to protect me from that very thing.
When I got to the house, I kept myself low enough that I wasn’t visible from the inside. I crept along, hoping that someone had left one of the ground-floor windows open so that I could sneak in. By the time I reached the backyard, I realized I was out of luck and I would have to make my entry forcibly.
I picked up one of the decorative rocks near McCallum’s patio and glanced inside the French doors leading from his pool deck. It was dark, and I didn’t see the flicker of a television or any movement. With my magic, I reached out, but all the spirits inside were still, asleep.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled back the rock, ready to smash it through the door, but then thought better of using my hand to do it. Moving backward two steps, I hefted the rock like a baseball and threw it directly toward the door.
The sound was so loud there was no chance I hadn’t alerted people inside the house. I moved to the side, ready to take on whoever came out first. Hopefully would be the muscle who had brained me, because I was looking forward to showing him how it felt. No one came.
Was the house empty? Was I right, and they were all out at some party or dinner?
The idea of setting a trap, one that McCallum would walk right into, made me grin so broadly I was glad there was no one around, because I must’ve looked demented. I grabbed oneof the pool towels from the supply cabinet that ran along the exterior wall. Protecting my hand, I reached through the broken glass and unlocked the back door. Inside, my feet crunched over the remnants of the window and I dropped the towel on the countertop. I had walked into some sort of game room, complete with a bar that looked like it was from the set of Cheers. A pool table, foosball, even a dartboard were all arrayed around the room.
The image of McCallum playing darts struck me as bizarre, but the idea of him playingfoosball… I imagined that if he played with his henchmen, he always won. He probably didn’t even notice, because he was so used to winning.
Walking through the house was unsettling in the dark. I’d only been there a couple of times, once when McCallum and I discussed our original agreement, and the second when I was dropping off his property. Both times, there had been so much security that it might as well have been the White House. Every room had been lit, as though McCallum didn’t care at all about the electricity expenses.
McCallum’s taste ran towards nouveau riche. He hadn’t met a giant painting that he didn’t want to display on his giant walls. The furniture was modern, except in his office where it looked like he had kidnapped the set designer from Citizen Kane and demanded that they re-create a 1900’s oil tycoon office. All wood, massive furniture and a bookshelf that was filled with tomes he never read.
I picked my way through the house, not wanting to trip on any of the uncomfortable Scandinavian furniture. Standing in the entryway, I glanced around. If I set my trap in the entryway, McCallum wouldn’t have time to defend himself.
Before I could decide how to ambush McCallum, something hit me solidly from behind.
Two
Igrunted, rolling forward and away, trying to give myself some space, but whoever had hit me knew their stuff and had my arms pulled behind my back before I could manage anything. I heard a metallic sound and felt cuffs around my wrists.
“You’re under arrest for breaking and entering,” a familiar voice said behind me. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say and do —”
“King?”
I hadn’t seen the cop since our adventure in a haunted house together. I’d meant to call him, but every time I got up the courage I remembered he was probably too good for me and mixing my business with police business was going to be bad news. The sort of news that got me either arrested or carted off to some secret government lab.
On the other hand, he hadn’t called me either, so I supposed we were even.
“Ferro?” He rolled me over, and while the feeling wasn’t comfortable with my arms pinned behind my back, it allowed me a pretty clear view of his face hovering over mine.
In the ambient light of the house, I could just barely make him out. High cheekbones, a slight stubble, and the sort ofmouth that gave me ideas. The pale light stained his amber skin blue. His eyes were dark and impossible for me to read. I doubted even if he was excited for our second meeting that it would change the fact that he had arrested me.
“What are you doing here?” King asked.
“Well, you’re going to feel really dumb when I tell you,” I said, stalling for a moment. He was still hovering over me, and he smelled like warm spices. “This house is for lease, and my real estate agent gave me a key so I could check it out. See if I wanted to rent it.”
“I saw you break in,” King said. “You didn’t have a key. You used a rock.”
“They said they left a spare key under the rock.”
“And then you used the rock to smash the window.”
“I wanted to check the security,” I said. “They told me the windows were unbreakable.”
“You decided to check on this place at night?” King helped me up, tugging my arm so I was sitting more comfortably. “Really. Where’s your real estate agent?”
