Trick of the Light by Rob Thurman

Author:Rob Thurman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780451462886
Publisher: Calibre
Published: 0101-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The House had their own jet. No surprise there. It was only a four-hour drive, but I suspected the last thing Mr. Trinity wanted was to be cooped up in a car, no matter how large and opulent, for that long with a bar owner. An annoyingly low-class bar owner with unsuitably tousled waves of streaked hair, equally unsuitable red jacket and pants, and the rude habit of demanding food and pomegranate martinis on an hour-long flight.

At least Eden House had connections far above and beyond the government, because I boarded their plane without showing ID and carrying my gun. And a few knives. I could’ve carried in a shotgun if I’d wanted. I didn’t want. I wanted another martini, but we landed before I was able to order one. Mr. Trinity hadn’t exchanged one word during the flight. His second in command, along for the ride, Jackson Goodman, was less restrained. “Greed and gluttony,” he said disapprovingly. “While we’re on . . .”

“A mission from God?” I smiled winningly. Old movies, I loved them. I’d been waiting a long time to use that line with Eden House.

After that, Goodman didn’t speak to me anymore while we were on the plane. It was for the best. He annoyed me, and I couldn’t spare the concentration right now to think of ways to annoy him back. Not that he didn’t think that I annoyed him already. Poor Jackie. He had no idea what I could do if I put my mind to it. But there was a time for everything.

We disembarked in San Diego to blue skies, the imagined smell of the ocean, and a slowly falling sun. I liked San Diego. I liked the cold, salty ocean, the wet sand, Old Town, the Gaslamp Quarter, the seals flapping and snorting seawater. It was a great place to visit, a great place to live if you could afford it, and apparently a great place to drop a bread crumb. That face, that name, their plans . . . someone had visited the aquarium in Vegas and stared at a particular shark through the glass—and that someone had ended up here. They had good taste.

Maybe I could pack in a minivacation while scooping up a tiny portion of the Light. I ignored the diesel fumes on the tarmac and turned toward the ocean. It wasn’t in view, but I could imagine it. Now, if I actually could get to see it and eat seafood on the docks, it would be a great day. A fabulous day.

I wasn’t holding my breath.

“Where is the next step?” Mr. Trinity said behind me, his voice the drip of a frigid icicle. I’d be willing to bet his greatest regret was that he hadn’t been born in the time of the Inquisition or witch burning. Not that Eden House was Catholic . . . they were an order of their own making, unknown by the public, unaffiliated, and were around before BC clicked over to AD. Ancient indeed.

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