Free Magic on the Hunt by Devon Monk Page B

was remembering September. A lot happened. To me,” I added.
    “Your father died,” he said.
    I nodded. “I channeled a wild storm and almost killed myself. That was also the month I was shot. I’m pretty sure Dane was one of the people who shot me.”
    “He was.”
    Victor’s casual agreement was exasperating. “And you never did anything to him? He shot me, and you didn’t even bother to tell me about it?”
    I was so not okay with that.
    “Dane is Sedra’s right hand, and in many ways equal to the Voices of the Authority,” Victor said. “If he is questioned, we are questioning her. It gets . . . politick. He insisted it was an accident. Self-defense. That you rushed him and tried to kill him and that he was carrying out Sedra’s orders.”
    I didn’t remember any of it, so for all I knew, that could be true.
    “Did Sedra order him to kill me?”
    “She ordered him to stop anyone who was involved with the murder of your father, for inciting distrust among the Authority and agitating the war between factions.”
    “Me? She thought I was fueling the wars between the factions? I didn’t even know about the Authority back then.”
    “We weren’t sure of that,” he said.
    “You could have asked. Hell, my dad had Zay following me around town—you could have asked Zay.”
    “Why do you think he was following you?”
    “Because my dad hired him.”
    “That’s true. But he was also watching your father. To see what he was doing with you. To see what he was using you for.”
    Right. I kept forgetting that nobody in the Authority trusted one another. Well, now that sides had been taken, and lives lost, a much clearer idea of who was on what side was emerging. “I don’t think you have all your facts straight,” I said.
    “Please.” Victor spread his hands. “Enlighten me.”
    “Dane was involved in the murder of my dad,” I said.
    Victor was suddenly very, very still.
    “He was there,” I said. “He told me he and Greyson killed Dad.”
    Maeve cursed. “When did he tell you that?”
    “This morning. He said he was going to kill me like he killed my dad.” Saying it made me a little light-headed. I was discussing my own death like it was a speeding ticket I’d barely avoided.
    “What else did he say?” Victor asked.
    “He wanted to know where Dad is keeping Sedra. He said Jingo Jingo was working for Dad, and that Dad has been telling me things and Closing me since I was five to make holes in my head so he could possess me. Dane thought I knew where Sedra was because Dad told me. He hasn’t,” I added.
    I took another drink of coffee. The whole thing made me feel dirty. Used. If what Dane said was true, if my dad had been Closing me since I was five, taking my memories, my life away, I didn’t know what that made me. A toy? An experiment? How much of my life had I lost? How much of me had Dad selectively culled to shape me into what he wanted me to be?
    How much of my life had I decided upon? Was I nothing but what my father planned me to be?
    Maeve made a tsk sound. “Ah, Allie. You know he could be lying.”
    I nodded. I didn’t tell her how much I hoped that was the case. Right now, the idea that magic randomly stole my memories was a lot easier pain to deal with than if my dad had been tearing me into little pieces all my life.
    “We don’t know for sure yet.” She stood and walked toward the middle of the room to a deep walnut bureau. “But we will find out, Allie. Won’t we, Victor?”
    Victor finally moved. He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth, his elbows on the chair’s arms. He was looking at the map on the wall, as focused as a sharpshooter waiting for a clean shot.
    “Yes,” he said. “We will.”
    Maeve opened one of the bureau doors and chose a bottle, then retrieved shot glasses from another shelf. She poured us drinks and cupped the four glasses in one hand, offering the first to Victor, who took it with