I frowned. That damn symbol again. I was getting real tired of seeing it without knowing who the f**k it belonged to.
Caine saw me staring and crouched down to get a better look. He took care not to get within arm's or knife's reach of me. Smart man.
"Is that a rune?" he asked.
"Yeah. One I've been seeing a lot of lately." I pulled my cell phone out of my back jean pocket, used it to snap a picture of the rune, then stuffed the device into my jeans once more.
Caine didn't say anything else, but he grabbed the guy's wrist, held it up to the light, and stared at the crude symbol, committing it to memory.
I straightened. "All right, detective. Time to decide. Are you in? Or out?" He glanced up. "What happens if I'm out?"
"You go your way, and I'll go mine. I'll look for your fellow boys in blue to fish your body out of the Aneirin River in a couple of days."
He shook his head. "That won't happen."
"Really?" I asked. "I was watching the house. I noticed you arguing with someone on the phone right before these guys showed up. I'm willing to bet it was someone on the force. Care to tell me who you were talking to?"
Caine's eyes dropped to the floor, and I spotted another cell phone swimming in a puddle of blood. Must be his.
"Stephenson," he muttered. "I was talking to Wayne Stephenson, my captain." The overweight giant who'd given the press conference. The one who'd kept a muzzle on Caine the whole time. I made a mental note to get Finn to start digging into the police captain. If the Air elemental had paid him off, maybe she'd left a trail back to herself.
"And what did Stephenson want? To make sure you were home before he sent the dogs in?"
"He wanted to talk to me about the Giles case," Caine said. "That's all. It doesn't prove anything." "No," I said. "It doesn't prove anything. But it's a pretty damning coincidence."
Silence. Donovan Caine stared at me. Emotions continued to flash in his eyes. Faster now. Like lightning striking the earth again and again on a hot summer night.
Although he didn't look at it, I knew the detective was still thinking about the gun lying just a few tempting feet away. About how he could take care of one of his problems right here, right now. I hoped he'd realize how stupid that would be. Or I'd be wearing even more blood in another minute. Two, tops.
But some of my reasoning must have resonated with him. The detective exhaled. He let go of the dead man's wrist and got to his feet.
"I'm in," he said. "But"
He shook his head. "But not without serious reservations and some rules. This truce you're offering only goes so far. I won't cover up anything you've done. Not one damn thing. I won't kill for you, and I won't let you hurt any innocent people." I laughed. The harsh sound smacked against the bedroom walls like the kiss of death.
"Innocent people? Like the gentlemen who came to see you tonight? The ones who were going to hold you down while their boss tortured you? I don't think you have to worry about stumbling over many innocent people on this case, detective."
"Maybe not. But that's how it's going to be."
I'd expected nothing less from him, and I could live with those terms. It was Caine's personal vendetta against me, that hot, seething, unreasonable rage, that could be his undoing. "Say the rest of it. You know you want to."
"The second this is over, I'm coming for you. Getting justice for Cliff Ingles, my partner, no matter what I have to do, even if that means killing you. Do you understand me?"
Caine's harsh, angry promise blazed like a bonfire in his eyes. His mouth was a flat line in his face, his hands bunched into fists, his whole body tight and tense. I'd pushed him as far as I could.
"Understood." I said. "Now, grab whatever gear you can get your hands on in three minutes. Clothes, money, whatever. We need to move. Now."
He stared at me. I met his hard gaze with one of my own. The detective nodded, and I knew he'd stick to his word. We were on the same side-for now.
"We need to leave because the Air elemental's on her way?" Caine skirted around me, still keeping out of arm's reach, and headed toward the closet. He didn't completely turn his back to me.
"Yeah. So hurry up."
Donovan Caine pulled a duffel bag out of the closet. He hooked his finger under a jagged strip of carpet inside the small space, rolled it up, then moved a loose floorboard underneath. He stuffed a couple of bricks of cash into the bag, along with two guns and several boxes of ammunition. Perhaps the detective wasn't the paragon of virtue I'd thought. Or perhaps he just realized the value of being prepared for anything in this city. Either way, my respect for him grew a little more. Despite his outdated ideals about justice, the detective was smart. A trait I'd always admired.
Caine moved over to the dresser and grabbed some clothes. Jeans, socks, boxers. I focused on the last item. Black boxers. Made from a nice silk, although not nearly as high-end as Finn's. I thought of that silk rubbing against me, followed by the thick, hard length of him. Mmm. Too bad he hated me, and I looked like an extra from a slasher movie right now. Otherwise, I might have considered seducing Donovan Caine.
"I would think someone like you would relish the challenge of taking on an elemental." Caine continued to stuff clothes into the bag.
I pushed my fantasy aside. "I might be an assassin, detective, but I don't particularly enjoy killing people." "Then why do it?"
The inevitable question. I decided to give him my standard, pat answer. Donovan Caine didn't need to know about my murdered family or time living on the streets.
He didn't need to know I'd been tired of being weak and afraid and hunted. That I'd chosen to become an assassin so I'd never feel that way again. So I would be strong.
And he especially didn't need to know how none of my skills were helping me cope with Fletcher's death or this sudden, nagging weariness I felt.
"Because I'm good at it, the blood doesn't bother me, and it pays very, very well. Not because I get some sick, twisted thrill out of watching the light leak out of people's eyes," I said in a glib tone. "As for elementals, they die, just like everybody else.
Magic doesn't make you invincible. Gordon Giles was an Air elemental, but his power didn't save him from being burned to death in that fake car accident. That being said, I don't want to take on an Air elemental when I've already been knocked around and saddled with an injured man. Besides, I don't know how many more men she might be bringing with her. She'll probably have a couple guys, maybe more. Not the kind of odds I like. As you can guess, I prefer more one-on-one action."