Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame E.C. Farrell (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📖

10.

HOURS LATER, I STILL haven’t heard from Hank.

I try to rest while Max sleeps, but every muscle in me trembles with nervous energy, driving me to pace again. Cell clutched in my hand, I walk the perimeter of the tiny room. The AC unit kicks on. Voices in the hall slip through the thin walls, echoing loud enough to hear over the roar of cold air.

Jaw tight, I peek through the blackout curtains. The setting sun casts shadows across a group of women with big hair wearing loud prints and earrings so big I fear they might rip their earlobes. That I don’t recognize them isn’t comforting. Though I know most of the bounty hunters currently in this plane, too many of our kind can change their appearance. Not to mention the witch charms that can hide paranormals in plain sight.

I drum my fingers against my cell phone case.

With enough concentration, and the right kind of object, I might be able to create one of those charms. My eyes fall to the tattoo around my wrist. Or better yet, add a charm to the spell already connecting me to Max. First though, I should probably attempt to scry on Max’s mom, if I can keep worry from distracting me. I pull a chair up to the bed next to Max and sit cross legged in it.

This would be easier with a crystal.

Out of curiosity — though seriously lacking hope — I dig through the pockets of the backpack, grinning when my fingers brush a small, smooth object at the front. Sure enough, good old Hank thought of everything. The small, white stone hangs from a thin leather cord. Apophyllite. Perfect for what I need.

Resting a hand lightly on Max’s shoulder, I close my eyes, concentrating on his vibrations. They roll through my body like pleasant little prickles. Goosebumps run across my skin, and the knots clenched in my gut unwind. Shades of blue and green and purple that I feel more than see bloom in my vision like watercolors on a blank canvas.

I shake my head to force myself to focus, then redirect the tiny quiverings into the stone. It glows with the same hues I saw moments ago, and a musical hum sings out through the room. The light pulses, shifting the shadows along the walls as the chain starts to rock gently.

Unlocking my cell, I pull up the Maps app with a thumb, and hover the stone over the screen. It swings in a wide circle as I concentrate on searching for like but different vibrations. At first, the magic only picks up on Max, stopping on our current location. I grind my teeth.

Focus, Fee. Similar but not the same.

The stone shakes, then lifts again, and spins. Warmth floods my phone as the display blurs. Sharp pain needles through the space above my left eyebrow as sweat beads along the small of my back. My jaw clicks with tension.

Concentrate...

Music blasts from the speaker, and a black screen obliterates the map. I’m torn between irritation and relief when I zero in on Hank’s name. Tapping the answer button, I hop out of the chair, and press my cell to my ear.

“You’re alive?” My voice squeaks, betraying my anxiety.

“And kickin’,” Hanks says. “How you doing, kiddo?”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Tell it to someone your own age.”

I chuckle through my nose. “Seriously though. Decisions were made. The kind that might put you and your staff in danger. Are you okay?”

A rustling sound crackles in my ear. “We’re all fine. When you went rogue and ran with Max, Yaritza called.”

Fear shoots through my chest, sharp and jarring.

“I talked her down,” Hank says. “Promised I’d make contact and find out what happened. Based on what you asked me to do—”

“I broke the contract,” I blurt, pacing again. “Or delayed it anyway. I changed plans when I read your text. Max swore he had nothing to do with this disappearance, and, well, I pretended to think Iris might be a shapeshifter. I know it was stupid but ... I just couldn’t do it, Hank. Not if he’s innocent. Not if Iris wants to make him pay for what one of his parents did.”

“I know,” Hank says, a low rumble under his words.

I scrape my fingers along my scalp. “You freaked me out. I thought ... I know this probably puts you in danger.”

“Hey, I can take care of myself,” Hanks says before I can continue. “And so can you. We do what we need to.”

Rubbing my chest, I try to let go of some of the tension there with a slow breath. Hank’s right. We’re equipped to handle this. Unfortunately, so is the guild. My best hope is to hope Yaritza buys my lie about why I hit Iris Smith with that shield spell and ran with Max. If Hank talked her down, I might still be in an okay position.

Still. So much for getting help from a powerful member of the Tribunal.

Groaning softly, I tug a strand of hair until pain cuts into my skull and takes my mind off that disappointment. “Do you think Yaritza will buy it? That I thought Iris might’ve been a shifter?”

“Considering you already had trouble with rival bounty hunters and were attacked on the bus, I think she will,” Hank says. “Send her a text. Tell her you had reason to believe Iris wasn’t who she said she was and that you’re going dark. Then don’t respond to anything she sends you. According to Camp, the payload was raised when Iris realized the Amazons were involved. Which explains why so many are after the two of you.”

I peek out through the curtain again, finding the hallway dark and empty. “Hopefully she’ll believe me. Though that’ll take a miracle.”

“I’ll do what I can to convince her, too. I can at least buy you a little time.”

Holding back a frustrated whine, I turn toward Max, studying his face as I ask, “What about this cell? Should I ditch it?”

“Hang onto