The knock came again, and Zorak broke off.
He looked at Zuri, and she looked as surprised as he was. "Were you expecting someone?" he asked, his voice calm and confident as always.
She shook her head. "I cleared today after last night's reading. It showed danger coming, and I couldn't tell from whom, so I wasn't letting anyone in." She hesitated, and her mouth tightened. "I think it's about a man I read for on Friday. Makun. It's the first time a reading has ever shown me danger like this, and it came right after I met him." She said his name as if it were a disease.
Zorak nodded. He had a feeling this was what she had been talking about. "Stay back."
He tapped his forehead twice to activate his Sight and glanced at the door. He could feel two presences on the other side, one calm and one erratic. Mystics, practitioners, and apparently with business here. "Let's open the door for now," he said.
He was colossal, but he was calculating. He knew nothing about the people outside except that, by their presence, they were strong, and attacking without reason would be stupid. Maybe they were new in town and needed something; maybe they were looking for the local mystic circle. He had to be sure what they wanted before he did anything. Zuri nodded, though he could see that on her own she would have chosen differently.
He opened the door slowly. On the landing stood Bol, tall, lean, blond and strikingly handsome, and Cheryl, petite and tattooed.
"Can we help you?" Zorak asked.
Bol looked past him at the apartment, at Zorak, then at Zuri. "Are you the owner of this place?" His gaze settled on Zorak, measuring him.
Zorak glanced at Zuri, then back. "Yes. How can I help?"
"We're new in town, and we're looking for someone," Bol said. "We figured someone here could help us."
The lesser spirit had followed the trail Makun left that Friday morning, while his signature was still whole, before he went home to the pills and the presence in the dark. It had led them here, to Zuri's door, and that, together with the energy rolling off the giant in the doorway, made this place their best lead.
"Who are you looking for?" Zorak asked, glancing at Zuri.
"We don't really know." Bol paused. "Did someone come here on Friday morning?"
Zorak turned to Zuri. "Did you see anyone on Friday morning?"
He watched her hesitate, caught between two bad options, and then make up her mind. "Yes," she said. "A man came on Friday morning. He was distressed and wanted a reading, but I couldn't do it. I sent him away."
She said nothing about the reading itself. Bol's eyebrow rose a fraction, and Zorak saw him decide she was lying.
"Then it seems we can't help you any further," Zorak said, starting to close the door. "Ask around. Maybe you'll find him."
The door never closed. Bol had put his foot in the gap. "We're not done here."
Beside him, Cheryl smiled like a psychopath.
Zorak's hand moved fast. He seized Bol's wrist and yanked him forward; Bol stumbled but didn't fall, twisted free and stepped back with his hands raised. "Easy," he said, his voice still calm. "We're not here to fight."
"Then move your foot."
Cheryl giggled and leaned against the doorframe, twirling a strand of hair around one finger, her doll hanging from the other hand. "He's strong," she said. "I like him."
Bol ignored her. His eyes stayed on Zorak. "We're looking for someone. You know who. We know he was here, and we know his signature disappeared after he left this place."
Zorak didn't move. His body filled the doorway, a wall of muscle and scars. "And?"
"And we need to know where he went."
"She already told you. She turned him away."
"She's lying." Bol looked straight at Zuri, who stood behind Zorak with her arms crossed and her face pale.
"Zuri?" Zorak asked.
"I sent him away," she repeated.
Bol took a step closer, and his voice dropped. "We traced him here. Inside. Not to the door. Inside." He pointed past Zorak toward the room where Zuri gave her readings, the table and the candles and the shells. "He sat in that room for a while, and when he left, something happened to him." His gaze sharpened. "Since you want to lie, we'll have to get the information out of you."