Chapter Four

THE OTHER MAN moved past Cary to turn on the lights. The room was small and stuffy and smelled distinctly of mold and mothballs. A thick mustard-colored duvet on the king-sized bed matched the faded carpeting. Surprisingly, the room looked relatively clean and tidy enough to appear unlived-in. The bed was made, and there were no personal effects scattered around.

“So,” Cary said, leaning against the TV dresser stand and crossing his arms on his chest. He was wrung out to the point of exhaustion and dying to shut his eyes and pass out, but now was not the time to let his guard down. “Thanks for the invite, um…”

“You can call me Ty.” He removed his leather jacket, wincing, and sat down on one of the rickety chairs next to the small round table near the window. Cary suddenly thought that he must be just as tired as he was.

“Is it like, Tyson?”

“No, just Ty.”

There was a small pause. “Do you know who that jerk in the parking lot was?” Cary asked.

The guy—Ty—nodded. “Tony Giordano, the eldest son of a mafia boss from North Beach.”

“Great.” Cary’s heart sank a little. He’d had a feeling the suit was dangerous, just not how dangerous. He was way out of his depth. What could they possibly do against someone like that? This Ty (whoever and whatever he was) was no match for the mafia, as recent events had clearly demonstrated.

Ty was watching him intently. His eyes were a dark hazel color, sharp and intelligent. It was strange that Cary didn’t feel intimidated by his presence. Of course, he wasn’t waiving a gun at the moment, but even so, Cary instinctively didn’t think of him as an immediate threat, as he had in his dressing room. It had been only hours ago, but it felt as if eons had passed. Sleepless, tense eons of running around the city to retrieve his property while trying not to get killed.

“Can you get it back?” Cary asked.

It was rather unlikely, but he had to give it one last try. There was no way he could do this on his own. He could ask around and get some feelers out with his past buddies, but the chances of anything surfacing were slim. If someone so high up the food chain was interested in this item, it probably wasn’t going to end up in some pawnshop—especially considering its unusual nature. So if Ty was unable or unwilling to help, that would be it.

“Maybe,” Ty said. He stretched his long legs, assuming a more relaxed posture.

“‘Maybe’? What does that mean?”

“It means I haven’t assessed what I’m up against yet. Theoretically speaking, yeah, I could probably steal it back, given the right circumstances.”

“Okay,” Cary said slowly. It was a better answer than he expected, but how much of it was sound judgment, and how much empty swagger? It had only taken one blow to bring Ty to his knees, after all, and he was damn lucky it wasn’t a gunshot. “How much do you—”

“Look,” Ty said. “I’m not gonna take your money, since you can’t afford me anyway. But I tell you what. You want that amulet? You help me get it. Since you managed to follow me all this way, I’m guessing you can pull your own weight if you try hard enough.”

“Gosh, you make it sound so flattering,” Cary said.

He wasn’t sure why Ty suddenly wanted his help. Frankly, the thought of going up against the mafioso in the expensive suit, his hired guns, and whoever that woman was, scared the shit out of him. But there was no way for him to find the amulet by himself, and he wasn’t naive enough to believe Ty would just hand it back to him free of charge even if they did manage to find it. This was his best shot at getting anywhere near the amulet. Especially considering all the occult stuff he knew nothing about. He was, however, good at stealing things, or at least he used to be. “If you don’t want me to pay you, what’s in it for you?”

“If I get duped on a job, that means I’m out of my fee, and, more importantly, it hurts my rep with my clients. I can’t be known as the guy that can’t deliver. It’s bad for business. Not to mention that they took my ring, and I want it back.”

As far as explanations went, this was a good one, but Cary wasn’t sure he believed it. Ty was talking calmly and looking him straight in the eye, but Cary couldn’t shake the feeling he was being bullshitted somehow, and he tended to trust his instincts when it came to these things. He was pretty good at it. No illusion artist could hope for any kind of success if he couldn’t correctly read his audience. The part about the ring was probably true—that was something Cary wouldn’t mind having himself. And he’d seen it at work, when the mysterious woman couldn’t bring Ty down while he was wearing it. But the rest… Cary would have to watch his step with this guy.

Ty was looking at him steadily with those sharp eyes, patiently waiting for him to come to a decision.

“Do you know who hired you to steal my amulet in the first place?” Cary asked, stalling.

Ty shrugged. “No idea. I get most of my jobs through my fence. He’s the one dealing with the clients, and I get the info from him.”

It probably didn’t matter at this point, but Cary was still curious about who’d sent Ty after him. He bet lot of money had changed hands on this deal. Wouldn’t that client be as frustrated as they were about losing something they wanted so badly?

“How do I know I can trust you?” Cary asked, though he already knew he was going to agree, despite all the reasons he shouldn’t. At the very least, Ty could be his lead to the whereabouts of the amulet, and then… A lot could happen.

Ty offered a wry smile. “You don’t, and I don’t think I can say anything that would convince you. But hey, you came here looking for me, so who should be convincing who?”

“Well, excuse me for worrying about being robbed again.”

“Remind me again what it was you’ve done time for?”

Cary huffed. “That was different. And how do you know I’ve done time?”

“Yeah, whatever. I do tend to research my marks.”

“Okay, fine, Mr. Professional,” Cary said pointedly. “We do it together. And just so you know, I was damn good at stealing people’s wallets. I just wasn’t good at taking the blame when my buddies decided it would be quicker to rob a convenience store than work a crowd of tourists on Fisherman’s Wharf. And while we’re on the subject of working the crowd, I must remind you that we had to leave my dressing room in a kind of a hurry, and I don’t have anything on me, including my phone and wallet. And I’m so fucking tired I could pass out. Wearing that thing sure drains energy.”

The night had become progressively more and more crazy, but now, when there was no immediate danger, the exhaustion came back with a vengeance. Cary really did have a hard time staying upright at this point, and the thought of having to walk all the way home or to the Garland filled him with dread. He could ask Ty for a lift, now that they were officially partners in crime, but the other man looked no less beat.

“That’s because you were using it wrong, genius.” Ty yawned widely, as if to illustrate Cary’s thoughts. “I guess you could crash here for the night,” he added, somewhat reluctantly.

“Hey, it didn’t come with a manual,” Cary retorted. It was reassuring that this Ty character seemed to know a thing or two about real magic, but right now, Cary was more interested in the en suite. He was sweaty, his clothes were filthy from crawling between parked cars, and he wanted to take a shower so badly he almost didn’t mind doing it with an armed criminal in the adjacent room.

“Dibs on the bathroom,” he announced, swooping inside, not bothering to wait for Ty’s response. He shut the door behind him and locked it. After two years of prison showers, he valued his privacy.

The bathroom was shabby, but there was soap and a couple of towels, and that was all he cared about. As he let the hot water wash the grime off his skin, Cary thought about what he was going to do.

The one thing he knew with absolute certainty was that the amulet’s magic had been real. His performances were always a massive success when he used it. Hell, he’d felt it working, as crazy as that sounded—a warm tingling all over his body, a rush he couldn’t quite put a name on. Logic dictated this wasn’t the only magical artifact out there, and that other people knew more about their existence than he did. How these people had found out about his amulet, he had no idea, but maybe Ty was right, and he’d been too flashy with it. Maybe. The question was—was he willing to risk messing with said people to get it back?

As potentially valuable as the thing was, he was loath to do anything that might get him in trouble with the law again. He’d been there, done that, done the time for it, and he was trying his best to clean the slate and start over. Chasing down the amulet would most likely entail doing things that weren’t strictly (or at all) legal, and he could hardly afford being caught at it again. He couldn’t trust Ty to have his back if whatever plan they came up with went south, so the probability of Cary ending up taking the fall for the both of them was pretty damn high.

And this was before he even considered how dangerous these guys were. Men with bodyguards and women with freaking superpowers were definitely out of his league. Whatever this Giordano character wanted the amulet for—he wasn’t going to take well to the possibility of losing it again. And as opposed to Cary, he probably had more resources at his disposal to ensure against that.

Cary switched off the water and stepped out of the shower. He wiped the steam off the mirror and stared blearily into his red-rimmed eyes. His muscles ached as if he’d run a half-marathon, and he was ready to fall over. Any fateful decisions would have to wait until he’d had some sleep, though he suspected he was going to go through with it, regardless. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been sharing a motel room with a complete stranger. Okay, he had shared motel rooms with strangers, but that was for purely recreational purposes, and no guns or weird magic were involved. Only cheap thrills and cheap alcohol.

He actually wouldn’t have minded spending the night with Ty under different circumstances. Whoever and whatever the man was, he was hot. Cary liked his sort of rugged good looks and easy attitude.

He emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Ty was still sitting in the chair, frowning at his cell phone. He glanced up, and from the look he gave him, Cary suddenly had the distinct impression he wasn’t the only gay man in the room.

He cleared his throat, and Ty reverted his gaze to Cary’s face.

“So what’s our next move?”

Ty dropped the phone into his jacket pocket. “I’ll find out more tomorrow. Tonight, I suggest we get some rest.”

Well, that certainly curtailed the planning. Cary was kind of glad, since he didn’t have the energy to stay sharp. However, there was another hurdle on the path to a much-needed rest. The room only had one bed.

Ty must have caught him staring at it longingly, because he suggested, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Really?” Cary asked. “On a motel carpet?”

Ty shrugged. The possibility didn’t seem to fill him with the same disgust as it did Cary. “I’ve slept on worse.”

Ty did owe him for putting him through a hell of a scare, so sleeping on the floor in the way of apology was only fitting. But Cary had never been a petty person, and it appeared as if neither of them would be shy or put off by sharing a bed with another man. Ty didn’t behave like someone prone to outbursts of violence. In fact, ever since they’d entered the room, he’d been quietly subdued. He could be wrong about that, and all of it could be attributed to the aftermath of being hit over the head, but Cary had a feeling he wouldn’t jump him in the middle of the night. He’d known some really brutal assholes in his life, and Ty didn’t give off that kind of vibe.

Sharing a bed with a guy who had mugged him only a few hours ago would certainly be a fitting way to cap this bizarre day, wouldn’t it?

Cary got into the bed and shed the towel from beneath the covers. “Nah. It’s big enough for the both of us. As long as you don’t poke me with that gun of yours.”

Ty grinned. “It’s a deal.”

He got up and pulled a large black duffel bag from under the bed, which he took with him into the bathroom, also locking the door behind him. Cary briefly considered waiting to see him come out without any clothes on, but his eyelids suddenly seemed to have other plans and fell shut all by themselves.