Heart and Soul by Jackie May (reading list .TXT) 📗

steeling herself for the worst, I guess. “What does he want?”

“He says that sometimes he can’t get through to you. That it’s getting harder for you to hear him.”

“I hear him just fine.”

“Then I don’t have to say it. You already know what he wants.”

“He hasn’t said a word.”

“He has. You just won’t hear it. I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t, either.”

“What does he want?”

“He wants you to be happy.”

“Meaning what? How, exactly?”

“You’re still doing it. You won’t hear me.”

“I can’t hear it unless you say it.”

I stand up. “I told him it was hopeless. We all know you would never give up the ten million, and neither would I.”

She pushes to her feet, somehow looking staggered, as though I’ve wounded her. How could she not have any idea? That’s some next-level denial.

“He wants to go, Charlotte,” I say, trying to conjure exasperation, but failing. “Okay? Matt wants you to let him go. That’s it. I won’t do the whole conversation again. If you want to know more, ask him.” After watching her for a moment, I have to leave the table, because the look on her face is haunting. It’s the same look I’m terrified to see in the mirror someday. Without any sarcasm or spite, I say the words that have always been the most difficult for me. “I’m sorry.”

Her face goes blank. Her voice is flat. “Sun’s going down. We need to get ready.”

After she trudges away, Russo tiptoes in from the back door. “She didn’t say a word to me all day. Seemed like she was waiting for you to get home.”

“She was.”

“Anything I can do for her?”

“I’m going to ask you straight up, Danny. Is she just the ‘next’ one? Because if so, you need to walk away right now.”

“Straight up. I love it. Straight-up question gets a straight-up answer. There is no ‘next’ one. Not after her.”

“No more Amy’s?”

“Not if I have anything to do with it. The question is, do I?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m starting to see that.”

“You asked what you could do for her, and I’ll tell you. What you can do is be very patient. You get me? You can wait. That’s all she needs right now. Be there, and be you. Think you can do that?”

He gives a satisfied smile. “As long as it takes. Anything else?”

“Yes. You can do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“You can bring her home safely tonight. I don’t know what shit’s going to go down at the Grande Ballroom tonight, but I do know that Jay and Charlotte both have tunnel vision. If they find what they’re looking for—if they find who they’re looking for—they won’t look both ways before crossing the road. You and I have to do the looking for them. I promised somebody that I’d watch Charlotte’s back, but I’ve got to keep both eyes on Jay.”

“Say no more. You get yours, I’ll get mine.”

“I mean it, Danny. No matter what happens.”

“You got big plans for tonight?”

“I don’t got shit. But Jay needs this. Even though I hate to admit it, I think he needs this more than he needs me, which is why I’m going to let him off his leash.”

Russo’s eyes grow wide. “Uh. Have you ever seen Brenner off his leash?”

“In bits and pieces.”

He folds his massive arms. “Just be careful what you wish for. I know how much you love this city, Shayne. He could burn the whole thing down by morning.”

“Danny, if that’s what he needs, I’ll give it to him.”

“There it is.” I point out the windshield of the Rolls-Royce at a building coming up on our right. The legendary Grande Ballroom, once the premiere ticket for rock bands of the sixties and seventies, now a two-story pile of rubble in a vacant part of town. Every window is boarded up. Trees grow out of cracks in the walls.

Russo eases up on the gas. “Look at this. What the hell?”

The road ahead is dark. I don’t mean dark as in no streetlights, I mean dark as in completely blank. A tunnel of black nothingness much darker than the moonlit sky.

“Elle told me they might do this. It’s a blackout ward. We won’t see, and we won’t be seen. Better for everybody.”

“What do I do?”

“Nothing,” Hillerman says from the passenger seat, checking the mag in her pistol, stuffing it into a crystal-beaded clutch bag. I feel an urge to check my own handgun again, but I’ve already done that twice since we left the house.

“Here goes…” Russo drives us straight into the blackness, and everything disappears—not just outside, but everything inside, too. It’s like we’ve just been blindfolded. I feel the seat next to me, relieved to find Jay’s arm. The car slows down, then takes a quick turn to the right.

“How are you doing that?” I ask. “Can you see?”

I hear Russo turn around in his seat. “I’m not doing anything. It’s driving itself.”

“Shayne, keep track of our location. Map it out in your head,” Hillerman says.

“No map needed. We’re only a block north of the ballroom. It’s right behind us.”

“We’re barely moving,” Russo notes. “Stop-and-go, like we’re in traffic.”

“A parking lot,” Hillerman suggests. “Waiting our turn for a spot.”

“It’s got to be at least two whole blocks they’ve completely cloaked, even from ourselves,” I say. “They’re really serious about keeping this anonymous.”

“Good for us.” Hillerman’s seat rustles. Her voice is now aimed back at Jay and me. “Last words. Remember that we’re supposed to be old money—filthy rich and obsessed with status—be sure to act like it. Don’t forget about the hundred-dollar bills I gave you. Tip generously and often. Understood?”

I flip through the stack of hundreds in my clutch. “Pass them out like candy. Got it.”

“We’re here to apprehend a target, any of the top three—Beyona, Tabitha Durran, or their necromancer, whoever that is. Let’s not get greedy. Their necro ring can only function with all three, so one’s all we need to break the chain. As soon as any one of us has got