see Harry, but The Boss also knows she’s back and has sent Quaid to return her to his
protection:
Chapter 6
I took a deep breath, clutching the double shot macchiato as I sat outside the Starbucks in
Underworld waiting. Underworld was the place between the realms and Earth, but wasn’t
directly ruled by the big three.
Death’s portal had dropped me somewhere in Egypt. It took a bit of persuasion, but I
was able to convince a druid I spotted on the street to direct me to the closest Underworld
portal. No surprise, he wanted a payment, but I convinced him to sell the information to
Johnny’s boys—an arm of the “police” in Underworld which should really be called the
Druid Mob. I supposed someone had to be in charge of the day to day workings of a major
city, but they were all corrupt. I hated druids, but this was the fastest way to get the Druid
King’s attention. I’d told the druid to let the Mob know I’d be waiting at the Starbucks for
them to arrive. So here I sat, waiting and hoping The Boss—or Death—didn’t find me first.
I wanted to contact Omar, but without my phone—the second best company perk,
which had an address book with every contact number on the planet—I was SOL. Of
course, had I taken the phone with me to Death’s Villa I would have had other options for
leaving, but like the watch, I’d left it behind in my old apartment when I disappeared.
Ten minutes after I’d ordered my drink and found a seat, a limegreen convertible pulled
to a screeching halt on the street in front of me.
Two of Johnny’s goons, a driver and his lackey, practically fell out of the car in their
haste. I cocked an eyebrow at them as they approached.
As if on cue, Quaid materialized on the sidewalk outside the seating area.
“I’m here to see Harry,” I said to no one in particular, but everyone in the vicinity of my
voice noticed.
Within five seconds every pedestrian and patron had vanished or walked away. The
seating area and sidewalk were clear, leaving only the goons and Quaid.
“The Old Man’s been looking for you,” Quaid said, referring to The Boss. “You’re
leaving with me.”
I arched my eyebrow at him. “They were here first,” I said, pointing at Johnny’s boys,
“and if you think I’ll go anywhere with you, you’re crazy.”
Quaid—on the Old Man’s orders—had killed Jack. I’d never willingly go anywhere with
him, and he knew it.
The goons looked a bit like deer in headlights as Quaid snarled at them. The driver had
enough sense to place a call, while his lackey stared slackjawed.
Quaid’s lips were pursed together—he was clearly annoyed. He pulled out his phone
and started texting. I sipped my coffee, waiting for the real fun to begin.
A few seconds after Quaid sent his text I felt a slight tug against my core as if someone
—presumably The Boss—was trying to magically transport me away from the Starbucks
against my will. I smiled and winked at Quaid, who sighed and texted something else into
his phone.
The magic of Death’s villa had worked a lot like physical teleportation. When the kitchen
became the garden, it wasn’t really becoming the garden—I was physically relocating
myself to the garden. Normally that type of movement took a lot of power, but Death’s villa
was spelled to make local transports easy. Of course, this meant if I wanted to stay in one
place I had to know how to hold on—at least that was how I thought of it. It had apparently
become somewhat second nature over the last couple of months, because I hadn’t
realized I was locking myself to the Starbucks seating area until Quaid tried to move me.
He’d find it impossible now that I knew he was trying to transport me. I’d have to let go
first, and I had no intention of doing that.
“I’m here to see Harry, not Conrad.” I said to Quaid, using The Boss’s human name.
His lip curled up, as if amused. He ignored me and kept typing.
I caught the eye of the driver. I didn’t want to deal with Johnny. I wanted him going
straight to the top, which I was fairly sure I’d made clear already. To avoid confusion, I
said, “Harry, not Johnny.”
Johnny, the Mob boss, could get an update from his lackeys later. I had no desire to
deal with his posturing, and if The Boss showed, he’d be out of his depths anyway.
The driver glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then gave me an almost
imperceptible nod. Maybe he wasn’t planning to tell Johnny at all, or he didn’t want anyone
to think he was taking orders from me. I didn’t care, as long as he got Harry here.
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