Redemption Song (Daniel Faust #2)(15)

“We’ve got the van until noon,” Pixie said. “And my friend threw in the rest of the gear you wanted for your stupid plan. Which is stupid. Have I mentioned that?”

“I’m not sending you into the Carmichael-Sterling building, Pix. That’s non-negotiable.”

She believed Lauren Carmichael was a criminal CEO with hired guns on the payroll, not a world-class sorceress with a magic ring that enslaved demons. Sending her unprepared into that environment would be like dropping her into a meat grinder. I only knew one person qualified to walk into that building and come out in one piece.

“You know they’re gonna kill you, right?” she said, pulling the van away from the curb. “They know you, Faust. They know your face, and they’re looking to put a bullet in your head.”

“Which is exactly why their office is the last place they’ll expect me to show up. And remember, it’s only the inner circle we’re worried about. The rank and file over there have no idea who they’re working for.”

“They know they’re building that bloated cancer at the end of the Strip. They know how much electricity and water it’s going to waste every single year, not to mention the pollution—”

“Let me rephrase,” I said. “The rank and file over there isn’t packing heat and looking to murder anyone who gets in their way.”

“And adding one more giant pile of waste and greed to this town isn’t just as bad or worse? That’s your problem, Faust. Short-term thinking. You don’t see the big picture.”

I shrugged, watching the city roll by. “I’ve been accused of that.”

On our way over, I gave Bentley a call. He was an early bird. He had his own reservations about the plan, and then Corman jumped on the line and shared his feelings on the subject. You could describe his language as “peppery.”

“Pixie already told me the plan was stupid,” I said.

“I didn’t say the plan was stupid,” Corman growled. He was the Oscar to Bentley’s Felix, built like a linebacker past his prime, and not one to mince words.

“Look, she can walk me through this step-by-step. Like somebody landing an airplane with instructions from the control tower.”

“You think Carmichael’s gonna leave the goddamn gates to her palace wide open and unguarded, when she knows we’re gunning for her? What about the Silverlode? That place was a nest of magical razor wire.”

“It was also obvious from a mile away,” I said. “I don’t think Carmichael’s crew is any good at playing subtle. I’ll check for wards before I go in—”

“Wards?” Pixie jerked the wheel. I waved a hand in an “I’ll explain later” gesture. I wasn’t going to, but it bought me time.

“That’s another thing,” Corman grumbled in my ear, “you’re bringing an outsider into this? Does she have any idea how dangerous this is?”

“Pix is no taxpayer. She’s just from a different side of our street. She can handle it.”

“Sitting right here,” Pixie muttered. “The person you’re talking about. In the van.”

“Sorry,” I said to her, cupping my hand over the phone.

On the other end of the line, Corman sighed. It sounded like gravel tumbling down a metal chute. “All right, kiddo. We’ll meet you halfway. We’ll come by and scope the place out, then we’ll decide. That’s all I’m promising.”

“That’s good enough. Thanks, Corman.”

I hung up. Pixie pulled the van off the road, parking curbside on a street littered with boarded-over windows and foreclosure signs, and killed the engine.

“This isn’t the place,” I said.

She folded her arms and glared at me. “The van doesn’t move…until I get some honest answers.”

“Pix—”

“No. You’ve done this to me too many times, Faust. You swoop into my life, you shake everything up, and then you pull a disappearing act. I’ve been very accommodating of your bullshit over the years, mainly because you always pay cash and don’t try to screw me, but I don’t believe for a second that you and me are going after Carmichael-Sterling for the same reasons. You’re no activist, and you’re no altruist.”

“I’m a thief,” I said flatly. “Maybe it’s a heist.”

“And maybe you’re full of crap. Mysterious phone calls? Wards? Refusing to let me make a simple Dumpster-dive when you know the kinds of scary-ass places I’ve walked out of? You can tell me what’s going on, or you can get out of the van. Your call.”

I sighed. “I don’t suppose doubling your fee would work?”

She kept her arms crossed, in stony silence, and waited for me to talk.





Eight

“You know this is a weird town,” I told her. It was the best opening I could come up with.

“Yeah. I’ve kinda noticed that.”

“Pix, this is a waste of time. You aren’t going to believe any of this.”

“Try me,” she said.

I shrugged. Might as well lay it on the line. She’d throw me out of the van and I’d have to go find another hacker, but at least the air would be clear.

“A few weeks ago, Lauren Carmichael nearly destroyed the world with an occult ritual that went down twisted. She was being played by a couple of con artists from another dimension, but that’s neither here nor there. Bottom line is, she’s a sorceress with grand ambitions, and we’ve got to take her down before she tries again.”