Rogue

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

“SARA, ARE YOU sure these directions are right?” Roland twisted the wheel to the left and the headlights bounced over the cactus growing along the edge of the twisting desert road. Not a road actually, more like a track that wound through the uneven terrain with occasional markers to let you know you were still on it. We had been following it for forty minutes, and so far there was no sign of buildings or any kind of life.

“David said it was a bit out of the way.”

“Out of the way or out of the state?” he retorted. “If this road gets any worse, we’re probably going to lose the exhaust... or worse.”

“We should almost be there.” The car crested a rise, and I pointed to a small cluster of lights less than a quarter of a mile away. “There it is.”

Jordan leaned forward in her seat. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“Right there, those lights.”

She shook her head. “I don’t see any lights.”

“Me either,” Roland said.

“Ha-ha, you guys. Very funny.”

By now we were close enough to make out a large, two-story adobe structure with lights shining from some of the downstairs windows. Outside lights illuminated the front of the building where half a dozen cars were parked.

Roland maneuvered the car across a small wooden bridge. “I don’t know what you’re talking –” He hit the brakes. “Whoa! Where did that come from?”

“What the hell?” Jordan yelled close to my ear. “That was not there a minute ago.”

One look at their shocked expressions told me they were not kidding me. “You really didn’t see it before?”

Roland shook his head, still gawking at the building.

I studied the structure, which appeared pretty normal to me – well, as normal as any building in the middle of the desert. “It must be some kind of spell to hide the place until you get close to it. He’s a warlock, so he could probably do something like that.”

“But you saw through it,” Peter said.

I chewed my lip, just as mystified as they were. “Maybe my power makes me immune to it. I don’t know.”

Roland parked the car in front of the building. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked at me. “Are you sure you want to go in there?”

“No, but I think I have to,” I replied. “You guys can stay in the car if you want.”

He reached for his door. “No way am I letting you go in there alone.”

The four of us got out of the car and walked to the entrance. I stopped in front of the arched wooden door and read the sign affixed to it. NO WEAPONS. NO BLOODSHED. NO CREDIT. “Nice.”

“No weapons?” Jordan blustered. “That’s ridiculous.”

I removed my dagger from the inner pocket of my coat and motioned for Roland to unlock the car. “It makes sense if you think about it. He does business with everyone, so he must get clients who hate each other. It would be bad for business if they killed each other at his place.”

Jordan didn’t remove the knives I knew she was carrying, and I waved a hand at the door. “I bet he has a ward in place to detect weapons.”

She glared at me for a long moment then stalked to the car. “Fine, but I’m going on record as saying this is a bad idea.”

“We’re not completely unarmed. We still have Roland and Peter.”

She made a sound that told me she’d rather have her knives.

Roland opened the door, and we filed inside. I was at the rear and had to move up between him and Peter to get a look at the room we were in. For some reason, I’d expected the inside of a warlock’s house to be dark and creepy with candles and wands and spell books all over the place. This room resembled nothing from my imaginings. It was warm and inviting with pale stucco walls, red ceramic tile floor, and a high beamed ceiling. Several pieces of what looked like local art adorned the walls. Brown leather couches, small tables bearing pretty stained glass lamps, and several large potted plants completed the décor.

The occupants of the room were another story.

Seated on one couch was a diminutive man with a ruddy complexion and small pointed ears who looked suspiciously like a dwarf. Across from him, two old crones in identical gray dresses bickered quietly over something. A burly man with shaggy yellow hair held a magazine in his clawed hands. He appeared to be some kind of werecat on the verge of shifting. Next to him, a slightly balding man in a dark suit was playing with the silver-tipped cane that lay across his knees. Everyone looked up when we entered and watched us curiously for a moment before going back to whatever they were doing. There was no sign of Madeline.

To the left of the door, a pretty young Hispanic woman sat behind a desk. She smiled and beckoned us over. “Welcome to Casa Orias. Do you have an appointment?”

“I don’t have an appointment, but I have an important matter to discuss with Orias,” I told her.

She flashed her dimples. “Orias is a very busy man, and as you can see he is booked tonight. If you’ll leave me your name and phone number, I’ll add you to his schedule.” She glanced at her computer. “How about tomorrow at 5:00 p.m.?”

Jordan tapped her fingernails impatiently on the desk. “This can’t wait until tomorrow.”

The receptionist’s smile never faltered. “I understand, but everyone’s business with Orias is important. It wouldn’t be fair to the clients with appointments.”

Something told me sweet talk wasn’t going to work on this woman. I unzipped the small front pocket of my coat and pulled out a rolled-up tissue. Discreetly, I opened the tissue and let a perfect, fat diamond bounce across the polished wooden desk. The diamond had to be four or five carats, and it sparkled under the small desk lamp. Beside me, Jordan let out a small gasp while the receptionist’s mouth made a perfect O.

The phone on the desk rang and the receptionist answered it. “Yes, sir. Canceled? I do have a walk-in I could schedule instead. I’ll do that.” She hung up and smiled again. “Wonderful news. One of our clients just canceled and we have an opening tonight. Mr. Orias will see you right now.”

“What luck.” I picked up the diamond. “Lead the way.”

She walked around the desk and led us through a closed door, down a hallway, and up a flight of stairs. At the top, she knocked on a door and a male voice rumbled for us to come in. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

“Welcome,” said the man sitting behind a large mahogany desk. He looked to be in his thirties, with long black hair and sharp brown eyes. He wore a plain blue dress shirt and black pants, and he looked more like a businessman than a powerful warlock.

He looked at the four of us and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Mohiri children and werewolf pups, what an intriguing group.”

“We get that a lot.” I walked farther into the room and my power stirred, sensing the presence of a demon nearby. Warlocks kept their demons with them at all times so it made sense that Orias had one in his office. The demon felt oddly muted, as if it was under glass, but even so I could tell it was somewhere to my left. It was strange and disconcerting to be in a room with a higher demon, and I forgot to introduce myself.

Orias steepled his fingers, and his shrewd gaze shifted to me. “And how may I be of service to you this evening?”

Trying to ignore the demon, I walked forward until I stood behind one of the three visitor chairs in front of his desk. I rested my hands on the back of the chair, thinking about how to broach the subject of the reason for our visit. “I’m looking for information.”

“I know many things. What kind of information are you seeking?”

“I’m looking for someone, a Mohiri woman who has been to see you a couple of times this week. I need to find her.”

“Indeed. And does this woman have a name?”

“She probably goes by a lot of different names, but I doubt you have many Mohiri clients.”

He rested his forearms on his desk. “And what business do you have with this woman?”

“It’s personal.”

“Indeed.” Orias smiled, showing off even, white teeth. “It’s not often I have three beautiful Mohiri women visitors in as many days.”

My breath caught. “So she was here?”

“I do have a client who matches that description, yes.”

His short evasive answers were starting to annoy me. “Can you tell me where she is? It’s really important that I find her. I can pay.”

He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “I can’t give out sensitive information about another client.” I started to speak, and he raised a hand. “My clients pay well for my discretion as well as my services. It would not be good for my business if they felt like they could not trust me.”

His expression told me he wasn’t going to be persuaded to give up Madeline. I wanted to scream. I couldn’t believe we had driven all this way to the middle of nowhere for nothing.

“What kind of services do you offer, if you don’t mind me asking?” Jordan said from behind me.

“I offer many services, spells mostly. Protection and locations spells. My specialty is glamours.”

“Glamours?”

Orias smiled at her. “As you probably saw on your way in, many of my clients can’t go out in public in their natural form. My glamour spells allow them to live among humans undetected. They look and sound human for as long as the spell lasts. Of course, the stronger the spell, the shorter it lasts. Mine are very strong so my clients have to come back for a new one every month. I have many repeat customers, and I’ve found it to be a very lucrative business.”

Roland spoke up. “What if someone asked for a spell to kill someone else? Do you do those, too?”

“At one time, yes,” the warlock replied without remorse. “But I found it to be too messy, so I don’t deal in that type of magic anymore.” He waved a hand at his richly furnished office. “As I said, my current business is very profitable. It also keeps a certain warrior organization that likes to raid my peers at bay.”

I sighed inwardly. It was obvious we weren’t going to get anything useful from Orias. Hopefully, Madeline was still in the city and Kelvan could locate her again before she moved on.

Orias tapped his long fingers on his desk. “Speaking of the Mohiri, I received some very interesting news this afternoon. It seems they are looking for two of their young people, and they are offering a generous reward for their safe return. It’s not often that they reach out to their contacts in the community, so these two lost children must be very important to them.”

“All their children are important to them.” I swallowed and walked over to look at a painting to hide the panic flaring inside me.

“And imagine my surprise when two of their young people show up in my office on the same day. A coincidence, no?”

Jordan snorted. “Do we look lost to you?”

I could only muster a small laugh as I strolled toward a bookcase that held an odd assortment of books and ornaments. The demon’s presence grew stronger until it was impossible to ignore. I turned away from the shelves to find Orias watching me with a calculating gleam in his eye. It was time to get out of there.

“Thanks for taking the time to meet with –” I gasped as Orias raised a hand and the office door slammed shut behind Roland and Peter.

Roland grabbed the knob and pulled, but the door refused to open. He spun to glare at the warlock. “Not funny, dude. Open the door.”

Orias reached for his phone, looking very pleased with himself. “Why don’t you children get comfortable while I make a call? Don’t worry; you won’t come to any harm here.”

Roland, Peter, and Jordan started toward the warlock. Orias flicked a finger and the three of them suddenly found themselves sitting on the three chairs with their arms and legs bound by some invisible force. They yelled and were gagged until all they could do was struggle mutely in their bonds.