Spell Bound - Kelley Armstrong [105]
“Savannah?” Cassandra said as she turned and she walked back. When I looked at the homeless man, he was asleep again.
Cassandra let out a soft curse. “I didn’t even detect him. My apologies. I’m not quite the bodyguard I used to be, it seems.”
“Did you hear what he said?” I asked.
She looked at me blankly.
“He was talking to me. Didn’t you hear him?”
“I only heard you, Savannah. What did he say?”
I looked back at the homeless man. “I must be imagining things. Sorry.”
We met Lucas and Troy on the street out front. Bryce hadn’t been seen since leaving his bodyguard’s apartment. Using the GPS on the company vehicle, Sean had tracked it to a nearby parking lot, where it seemed to have been abandoned. There was no signal coming from Bryce’s phone.
Sean hadn’t told the Cabal. Not about Bryce’s potential involvement and not about his disappearance. We weren’t reporting this to Benicio yet either. Our best hope was that Bryce would contact Sean for help. He wouldn’t do that if he knew two Cabals were after him.
“Sean would like to talk to you,” Lucas said when we were in the car Sean lent them.
I stiffened. I wasn’t ready for that. If Bryce was on the run, it was my fault. Even if Sean didn’t blame me for that, how did he feel knowing I’d investigated Bryce’s bodyguard when he’d removed him from our hunt?
“It’s late,” I said.
“Not that late.”
“I’m going to head back to Miami with Cass. You can handle this. We need to work the immortality angle. The best files are in Miami and you know how Cass is with research—she’ll skim and declare the job done.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Cassandra said.
“And not disputing the point, I notice.” I turned to Lucas. “I’m not great with research but I’ll do my best. Tell Sean—”
I stopped. Hadn’t I vowed to be more mature? This wasn’t more mature.
“Okay, I’ll call,” I said.
“He’d like to meet you in person.”
I hesitated.
“I’m sure a call would suffice, if that’s easier.”
I shook my head. “Ask him . . . No, I’ll ask him to meet us at the airport.”
Great plan. Except Sean got waylaid by an urgent summons from his uncle, and we couldn’t delay the jet. I suppose I should have been relieved. I wasn’t. I’d worked up the nerve to talk to him about Bryce, and now that I wasn’t going to get the chance, I realized I really wanted to have that conversation. Wanted to see him. Wanted to reassure him as much as I knew he’d reassure me.
Didn’t happen. Might not happen for a while.
The Cortez jet was waiting when we arrived. I spent the flight trying to cast spells.
Who—or what—was the guy in the alley? Talk of wars and champions made me wonder if I was under so much stress I was hallucinating. Worse yet, hallucinating lines from comic books.
But my powers had temporarily returned. I’d knocked three people to the floor. I’d killed a man with an energy bolt.
After two hours of fruitless casting, I tried a new tactic, clearing my mind and reaching deeper into myself, blocking everything out until I felt the faintest twitch of power.
That twitch spoiled my concentration—I got excited, then anxious when I couldn’t find it again. More resting. More relaxing. More focusing.
We were on our descent before I felt another flicker of power. I forced myself to relax, then thought of the easiest spell I knew.
The pen rose an inch, then dropped.
“Very good,” Cassandra said. “With practice, you might be able to poke someone in the eye with it.”
I glowered at her.
“I’m not saying it isn’t an accomplishment,” she said. “Only that you may wish to ask Jeremy for marksmanship lessons in between your spellcasting practice sessions. That earlier show of power was remarkable, but you can’t count on it.”
She had a point, of course. It was a start, but at this rate, not very helpful. Even if I did get my spells back, I needed to know other ways to defend myself.
I think that’s what the guy in the alley meant—the same message I’d been hearing from others for years. Being a supercharged spellcaster hadn’t made me invincible. It’d made me complacent. Take away those spells, and I’d felt weak