Boundary Crossed (Boundary Magic #1)(24)
There were fluorescent arrows stuck to the carpet just inside the door, leading first-time visitors through the entry rooms to the coffee counter. The girl behind the cash register was maybe eighteen or nineteen, and she was covered in a pile of bad fashion: several T-shirts and cardigans on top of one another, a handful of cheap costume necklaces, and an enormous baggy skirt that truly looked like it was made from burlap. Her hair was an unattractive bright orange, cut in an unflattering, chin-length bob, and she wore large, square-framed glasses. In most cities, she might have been taken for a homeless person, although everything she wore was perfectly clean. In Boulder, however, she seemed right at home.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully as Quinn and I approached the counter. “Welcome to Magic Beans! What can I get started for you guys?”
“Maven,” Quinn said matter-of-factly, “We’re here to see the boss. He’s expecting us.”
The young woman—Maven—squinted at him. I realized with a start that underneath the layers of clothes, the odd hair, and the huge glasses, she was strikingly attractive. Sam had been cute, and I had a certain youthful appeal according to some, but this teenager was launch-a-thousand-ships levels of beautiful, even though she was trying to cover it up. It wasn’t just her face, I realized, looking at her closely. There was something inviting about her. I found myself leaning forward, eager for her response. “Oh, hey, Quinn. Forgot you were coming. He’ll see you in the back office,” she said pleasantly. “This way, please.”
We followed her through another quiet study area and a massive room I hadn’t seen before, which was nearly twice the size of the next-largest room at Magic Beans. The floor was polished concrete, and there was a sort of mini-stage set up next to a set of double doors that led outside, judging by the darkness that I could see through the window. “We have poetry readings in here,” Maven said, sensing my surprise. “Sometimes even a band. Here you are.” In the back right corner of the big room was a tiny office. An Asian man in shirtsleeves and a navy tie was hunched over a desk with neat stacks of papers on it. He looked up as we approached.
“Good evening, Mr. Itachi. This is Allison Luther,” Quinn said formally. “She goes by Lex. Lex, this is Mr. Itachi.”
The man stood and looked me over. He was a couple of inches taller than my five-five, compact and trim with a very businesslike haircut. His face was intelligent, his movements smooth and efficient.
Dangerous, I thought instantly, though I couldn’t pinpoint why.
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Sergeant,” he said, extending a hand. I blanched a little at the use of my old rank, but I shrugged it off and held out my hand. Itachi’s handshake was firm and quick. “Please, have a seat. Excuse us, Quinn.”
If it bothered Quinn to be dismissed, he didn’t let it show. He just nodded and stepped out past Maven, who had come into the room behind us. She smiled and closed the door, perching on a chair next to it. I sat on the edge of the visitor’s chair across from Itachi’s desk. I didn’t like the cramped quarters, or the fact that there was a stranger at my back, but I was hoping to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Just Lex, please,” I said.
Itachi nodded and gestured to a thick open file on his desk. “I’ve just been reading up on you. Interesting stuff.” He looked down and made a show of lazily turning a page. “Joined the army right out of high school. Two deployments to combat zones. Honorable discharge under . . . odd circumstances.” He glanced up, raising his eyebrows. “And you never seem to take advantage of any of Boulder’s resources for veterans. You don’t walk in the parade, you don’t go to the VA or to any support groups.” He shook his head, smiling humorlessly. “You didn’t want to be a poster child, Sergeant?”
I ignored the question, keeping my face expressionless as my thoughts whirled. I wasn’t surprised, necessarily—if vampires really did run the supernatural world in Boulder, they were bound to have access to significant resources. But it took time to cultivate that kind of information, especially when the notoriously close-mouthed US Army was involved. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since Quinn had tried and failed to press my mind. Had they been keeping tabs on me since the attack at the Depot? Or were they just that fast?
When I didn’t respond, Itachi turned another page. The next paper in the file was my mug shot. “You’ve also been arrested twice since you returned to Boulder,” he said mildly.
“You have my police records?” I asked before I could help myself. Damn. Who were these people?
Itachi nodded, his eyes still on the file. “I see that you were in a bar fight a few years ago, shortly after you returned from Iraq.” He glanced up, letting a silence brew between us. He was waiting for me to comment.
I clenched my jaw, then painstakingly unclenched it. “Guy wasn’t familiar with the concept of no means no.”
Itachi flipped the page, revealing another police report. “And you were arrested again just last year, for assaulting a random man on the street.”
“It wasn’t random,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “He was kicking the hell out of his dog.”
Nodding implacably, Itachi closed the file. “Both times, the victims were convinced to drop the charges after a visit from your father’s attorneys.”