When Oslo nodded, Bixby waved his hand. “Good. Now get out of here. I’m expecting a phone call.”
Actually, his phone call had been scheduled for two hours ago, but this client never called on time. If it had been anyone else, Mr. Bixby wouldn’t have tolerated such behavior for love or money, but this client was his seer as well as his buyer, and real seers were a lot harder to replace than mages.
Now that the marching orders had been given, Oslo jerked his head, and the room cleared out. When his men were gone, Bixby messaged his numbers guy to start moving money into the operational budget. Out-of-town work was always more expensive than one expected, and Bixby didn’t want Oslo to have any excuses if this fell through. He also sent notes around to his Detroit contacts to make sure no one up there took offense when Oslo’s war party rolled into their territory. He’d covered nearly half the DFZ before his private phone finally began to buzz in his pocket.
Bixby set the sleek black device on his desk. The no expense spared enchanted glass picked up the phone’s AR at once, throwing the incoming message up like a marquee in the air in front of him.
Having trouble, are we?
Bixby grit his teeth. This was another of his seer’s obnoxious peculiarities. The bastard set the call times, but never actually phoned. He only messaged, and none of Bixby’s hackers had ever been able to crack the number behind the Unknown Caller ID.
If the man’s predictions weren’t air tight every time, Bixby would have cut this nonsense off at the throat ages ago. Instead, he tapped his hand on the desk’s glass surface, bringing up the glowing virtual keyboard to type his reply. Since he was alone, he spoke the words out loud as he typed them, just to make himself feel like he was still in charge of this conversation. “It’s being taken care of. We’ll have everything in time for the pick-up tomorrow.”
That’s not what I heard.
Bixby almost put his fist through the glass. He checked his temper at the last second, closing his eyes instead with a deep breath. When he opened them again, several more messages were hanging in the AR.
Poor little Bixby, time’s running out. Of all the predictions I’ve made for you, every single one has come to pass, except the last. You’re courting your own death with this incompetence.
“Screw you!” Bixby yelled at the floating letters, but his fingers were shaking as he began to type his reply, because the seer was right. From the moment the first mysterious message had come into his life last year, everything the seer had predicted had come true exactly as promised, and Bixby had become very, very rich. But this latest prediction was the only one that really mattered, because the last thing the seer had told him was the story of Bixby’s death, and the role Aldo Novalli’s daughter would play in it if he couldn’t get her contained.
“I’ll find her,” he growled as he typed. “You think I don’t know how to catch runners? Even if my men don’t get her in time, I’ve been in this business for thirty years. I’ve had real assassins die just trying to get into my building. There’s no way I’m going down to some little mage girl no one’s ever heard of.”
Save your bluster,the seer replied.You think you can rattle your saber and scare the future into doing your bidding like one of your hirelings? How absurd. Time is a river. It flows on and on with no care or notice for those caught in it. But while you can see nothing but the water around you, I have the ability to look downstream. I can see all the possible paths the future might take, and while even I cannot say for certain which way the water will bounce when the time comes, I can tell you without doubt that there is not one single possible future in which you survive past midnight tomorrow without the Novalli girl in your custody. Not a single one. Do I make myself clear?
Bixby let out a long, angry breath. “I’m working on it.”
The reply came instantly.Work harder. I’ve made you a rich man in many ways, Mr. Bixby, and I can make you richer still. I’ve even told you how to save your pathetic life, but you have to pay the price. I want my Kosmolabe.If you do not have my merchandise at sundown tomorrow as promised, the Novalli girl will be the least of your worries. I will contact you again tomorrow at six. See that the news is good.
Bixby slammed his hands on the desk, cutting off the AR with a curse. There was no point in replying after that. Once the seer posted the time of their next conversation, the current one was over, and any other messages he sent would be ignored. Being hung up on like this made him crazy, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. The fortune teller was the only person in the world he couldn’t squeeze. He didn’t know where the seer lived, he didn’t even know the jack off’s name. The best he could do was put the whole thing out of his mind and get back to work, and he was attempting to do just that when his phone buzzed again.
He grabbed it at once, but it wasn’t another message from his seer. It was Oslo.
“Why are you bothering me?” Bixby snapped when the call connected. “You idiots can’t even be at the airport yet.”
“Sorry, boss,” Oslo said. “I thought you’d want to know this. I just got a call from my mole in the DFZ dispatch office. One of Algonquin’s water patrols found our guys face-down in the river.”
Bixby cursed loudly. For a supposedly sweet little nerd of a PhD student, Aldo’s daughter was turning out to be much more of a killer than he’d expected. “Was it her?”
“Don’t know,” Oslo replied. “Someone with a lot of magic scrubbed the bodies clean before dumping them. Real professional work. Seems our girl got herself some protection.”
That made Bixby pause, but then he shook his head. “This changes nothing. Protection or no, you do whatever you gotta do to get Novalli and her golden ball back here ASAP or I swear to God, Oslo, I’m going to kill the lot of you.”
Normally, that was an idle threat, but not this time. This time, Bixby was deadly serious, because if he didn’t stop Aldo’s girl from playing her part in the seer’s prediction, he wasn’t going to be around to regret shooting his entire organization. He was going to be dead.
Oslo must have heard the truth in his boss’s voice, because he turned meek as a lamb, “Yes, sir, Mr. Bixby. Will do.”
Bixby nodded and hung up, spinning around to stare out the window overlooking the glittering Vegas strip. Normally, the sight of so much easy money was guaranteed to make him smile, but not tonight. Instead, his eyes went to the mountains, looking north and east over the desert toward the double layered city on the edge of a lake where his wannabe death was running free, completely oblivious to the hammer she’d just brought down on her head.
***
An hour later, back in Detroit, Julius was about ready to give up.
They’d gone straight from the restaurant to the address Lark had given them only to find a parking deck. No apartment, no house, nowhere a dragon could possibly stay, just a gated six story deck that served as a commuter lot for the office complex on the skyway above them.
Julius knew that last part for certain because he’d climbed all the way up the spiral stairs to the top street level on the off-chance Marci’s GPS had gotten the vertical location wrong, but there was no mistake. This was the address the albatross shaman had given him, and unless Katya was hiding under one of the forgotten sedans in the back, she wasn’t here. No one was at this time of night, and now Julius had a problem.
It was one he needed to deal with in private, though, so he left Marci with the car and walked across the street to call Ian. When his brother didn’t answer, Julius hung up and called again. Finally, on the third try, the ringing stopped, and Ian’s excessively put-out voice growled in his ear.
