Fate's Edge

doorway, and Kaldar slammed the door shut and shoved the piece of wood he was carrying under the door.
    “Oh, so you gave her your knife so she wouldn’t kill you.”
    Kaldar stopped and stared at him. The woman shoved the door from the other side and cursed.
    “Too bad,” Jack said. “It was a nice knife. I really liked it. But it was a good trade.”
    “You have an odd mind.”
    “Is that bad?” Jack asked.
    “Not at all. It makes you unpredictable. That’s an excellent quality.” Kaldar shook his head and kept walking.
    “So what now?”
    “Now I get my knife back.”

FIVE
    IT was ruined. Audrey clenched her teeth. Everything she had worked for, everything she had tried to accomplish. All of it was ruined.
    She took the turn too fast. The Honda careened, threatening to veer off the road. She gripped the wheel and steered it back into the lane. Why was it that every time things went well, someone showed up to shatter it all to pieces? Her father, her brother, this idiot. She was so mad, she had almost run over some blond child in the parking lot. He actually fell off his skateboard in his rush to avoid her. She’d stomped on the brakes so hard, she’d hurt herself. The boy had scrambled off before she had a chance to ask him if he was okay.
    It was good that she had no superpowers because she would have burst into flames and left a trail of charred trees in her wake.
    She didn’t even ask “Denis” who he worked for. It wasn’t the Hand—all of Louisiana’s spies were so twisted by magic, none of them would make it through the boundary into the Broken. The more magic you had, the harder it was to travel into that world, and he seemed damned comfortable in it. Wasn’t a Claw, either. He didn’t look Egyptian.
    She wasn’t sure what nationality he did look like. Dark hair, honey-colored eyes—those she remembered very well—Caucasian features, but there was something else in there. Some Native blood, maybe? Whatever it was, he had an interesting face. Handsome. Really handsome. He used it well, too. He probably thought his smile was dashing.
    Moron.
    For a moment, when he sat there and listened to her with that smile on his face, she almost thought he bought her naive Georgia peach act. She even pulled out her best “sweet tea” Southern for the occasion. But no. God alone knew what Alex had told him.
    “That sonovabitch.” She slapped the wheel with the heel of her hand. “That damn bastard.” It wasn’t enough he had screwed up her childhood. He kept screwing up her adult life, too. She’d moved across the bloody continent to escape her family. Wasn’t far enough.
    The Honda jumped over the roots and popped out into the driveway of her house. Audrey shut off the engine and jumped out. Her getaway bag waited in the closet, already packed. It was always packed. She ran across the lawn to the front door, unlocked it, and ducked inside.
    “Ling!”
    She hoped Denis would buy her cold killer act. Either way, her life here was over, but extra time would be a great thing right about now. Even if he didn’t, it would take him at least a few minutes to break free. He didn’t seem the type to call for help. He’d want to get out all by himself, except that she made sure the zip ties on his hands were nice and snug. Eventually, he’d call for help, then there would be explanations, delays, and so on. By the time he was on her trail again, she would be long gone.
    Audrey yanked the getaway bag out of the closet and pulled the zipper. “Ling!”
    Money in a Ziploc bag, clothes, camping kit in another Ziploc bag: matches, Band-Aids, painkillers, wound disinfectant, antibiotic ointment.
    “Ling the Merciless! Where are you?”
    No answer. Where had that raccoon gotten off to? They didn’t have time to waste.
    Audrey threw the bag out onto the porch, grabbed Ling’s carrier out of the bedroom, set it on the porch, added two full five-gallon gas cans—the less she stopped in places with people and cameras, the better—and went to grab the bow from the bedroom. The crossbow was already in the car, securely hidden under the tarp. She had briefly considered taking it out that morning, not sure if she would be expected to chauffeur Johanna around. She didn’t want to answer awkward questions if the older woman had glanced into the backseat, but her paranoia had won, and she’d kept the crossbow where it always was.
    Awkward questions. Ha!
    Audrey swiped the bow and quiver from the shelf