Clara came over immediately when I called her. “You tidied up.”
“The cops got all the evidence. Thea thinks the best thing to do is to try and track my sword.”
Clara nods. “A personal weapon can get quite…attached. Your sword or even your gun.”
“Thea doesn’t like guns.” So she wouldn’t think of using it. But the gun might actually be better. I’d certainly been carrying it more – it’s hard to hide a sword.
“So, let’s try the gun.”
“Alright. What do you need from me?”
“Your hand for a moment.” She took it in her own. “What might work the best is your fingerprints on a piece of paper. I don’t want to try using your blood.”
I shook my head. “If we have to we will…”
“It’s likely to…well…supercharge it if I did that. Might cause side effects. We’ll see if this way works.”
We found some ink, and I applied my prints to the paper.
“I’ll burn this afterwards, by the way.”
I grinned. “Yeah. Don’t want some asshole finding it and using it to track me.”
“Or worse. Not that they could do a lot to you, but…”
I nodded a bit, then curled up on my futon while she worked. Witchcraft still fascinated me. I knew better than to attempt it, but it was interesting to watch.
Well, maybe. Magic worked differently for me. Loki’s magic seemed to just be a matter of visualization and will. So did mine.
Clara’s was beauty and ritual. “Found it.”
I nodded. “Let’s hope they didn’t already sell it or ditch it.”
“Let’s hope they didn’t take it to get to you.”
My lips quirked. “They’ll have me soon enough. Where is it?”
“That’s odd.”
“Did they throw it in the river?”
“Yes…no, wait. If they did, they dropped it right in the Old Town marina.”
I laughed. “It’s on a boat.”
“Most likely. But for a moment I did think they dropped it in the river.”
A good way to get rid of a murder weapon that. But no.
“They want me,” I said finally. “They took the things I’d have to go after. I still think the laptop was cover, though.”
“Yeah. Burglars don’t tend to steal guns unless they’re really good ones.”
“Looks like I’m going to Old Town.” I reached for my phone.
“Be careful.”
“Don’t worry. I will. And if I end up in the river, I swim well.”
She started to say something else, but I reached to put my hand on her wrist. “Thanks, Clara.”
All she could do to that was nod.