Ian Lai
It was evening by the time Ian was able to
sit down on his couch and dial Alyssa's number. Maybe she wouldn't
answer. Maybe she was with her family - if she still had any. A fair
number of their kind didn't (or if they did, they were no longer in
close contact.) Mostly, Ian tried to ignore things like Mother's Day. He
tried to ignore a lot of holidays. And today in particular, he had
other things on his mind.
The wounds from his encounter with the
spirit last weekend had been healed for a few days now, but it was
anyone's guess when the next attack would come.
(Maybe it was just messing with him, at this point.)
It
took about five minutes of staring at the name in his contacts (at the
newly revised number - since the first one had turned out to be a
mis-type) before Ian actually hit dial. And then it rang (that was a
good sign,) and while he waited for Alyssa to pick up, he tapped his
fingers lightly on the arm-rest of his sofa.
Alyssa Solomon
Here's
a funny twist of timing for you: Mother's Day is one of the few days
that specifically puts Alyssa in a bad mood. She has her reasons of
course; everyone does have reasons for the things that they do. She
doesn't celebrate it in any event, preferring to work. And that's what
she's doing tonight, sitting in her apartment/office with everything
she's learned from trying to find Claire. The papers are spread out
over the floor, the woman passing her attention over the information.
There are a lot of possibilities here, and lots of potential avenues to
go.
It must be a twist of fate that she remembers the phone
number. Maybe she misdialed it the first time or maybe something else
happened; who knows why they connected before? Because Alyssa didn't
let that go. Whatever happened, she's considering retrying when her
phone rings and she glances at it.
Glances at the number.
"You are fucking kidding me." She frowns, picks it up.
"Alyssa Solomon. Is this Ian?"
Ian Lai
There was a beat of silence before Ian responded. When he did, his voice sounded faintly suspicious.
"Kalen told me that I should give you a call. How did you get my number?"
The
most logical assumption, of course, was that Kalen had given it to her,
and this was naturally the first place Ian's mind went to when
considering the options. It never occurred to him that Alyssa may have
gotten it from a very different mutual acquaintance (one they were
presently both searching for.)
Alyssa Solomon
"You know Kalen." It's said in a deadpan tone. There's a long pause before she says, "Because of course you do. Jesus."
She
sighs. This sounds remarkably, well... "Fucking fate." She stops,
recollects herself, and when she speaks again it's less weary, a little
more friendly. "Sorry. It's been a day. I got your number while I was
working on a case. I'm a private investigator. How do you know
Kalen?"
Ian Lai
"Do you want the honest answer to
that question or the polite one?" There may have been a faint edge of
amusement in his tone, but it quickly gave way to the seriousness of
their discussion. Alyssa said that she'd found his number while working a
case, and that didn't exactly do much to alleviate Ian's suspicions.
It was a rhetorical question anyway. She was getting the honest answer.
"We slept together. How do you know him?"
Alyssa Solomon
If Ian suspects that we slept together
is a reason for Alyssa to be thrown, he's about to be surprised. It
provokes nothing of the sort, and she just reaches across to the counter
to pick up her beer.
"Really? He any good? I've been sort of
wondering, to be honest." A pause there, as she takes a drink. "We're
associates. That's as far as I'll go for that over the phone. I know
why I'm trying to get ahold of you...again, case. Before that though,
what can I do for you?"
Ian Lai
"Can't say I have
any complaints. But that's as far as I'll go over the phone." The way he
mimicked her phrasing was likely intentional, but he didn't linger on
it.
"A guy I know went missing. A Verbena. His consor seems to
have been possessed by some kind of corrupted nature spirit. I believe
the spirit is holding them both, but spirit business isn't exactly my
forte. Kalen tells me you're good with that sort of thing. I'm curious,
though... exactly what sort of case are you involved in?"
Alyssa Solomon
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
Yep,
that's what Ian gets. He hears a slight and distant thump as she puts
her head against the cabinet in her kitchen. "Let me guess. This is
just a shot in the dark, but was his name Sky? Schuyler Evans? And
hers--the Consor's--Claire god damned Carmichael?"
It's all making sense to her right now. She'd be laughing if she weren't so irritated.
Ian Lai
There
was a pause, and Ian let out a little breath of half-hearted amusement.
Perhaps, like her, had the circumstances been different it would have
been a proper laugh. But they were talking about Sky and Claire. And
there was very little about any of this that Ian actually found funny.
"Yeah. I take it you're looking for them, too."
Alyssa Solomon
"Yeah, for Claire's mother. I had suspicions, but nothing confirmed about whether one of them was Awakened or not."
She sighs. "So what do you know about it so far?"
Ian Lai
"Not
much, really." He didn't like to admit that, but it was the truth. "Sky
is being kept underground somewhere. The spirit's feeding off of him.
It attacked me too, once, when I was driving. Fed off me the same way
it's been doing to him. I did some research and looked up all the
possible locations where he could be, but so far I haven't found him. I
found a Virtual Adept... Grace? Maybe you know her. She said she'd try
to help locate him more quickly. But she doesn't know how to deal with
spirits either."
Alyssa Solomon
"Yeah, I know
Grace." Jesus, she's going to go walk off a cliff now. It's a good
thing this is over the phone, because she's actively turning red at the
moment.
"If you name an Awakened here in Denver, I probably know
them. Have you checked the lake that they were going to check out
together?"
Ian Lai
"We didn't exactly keep each other posted about our travel plans."
No, it wasn't that kind of a relationship.
"Can you tell me where it is? Maybe that'll help narrow things down."
Alyssa Solomon
"Nope."
And she lets that hang there for a moment, before she follows it up. Partially because she's taking another drink.
"Not
until I confirm exactly who the hell you are with reliable sources.
Sorry, but right now you're some guy that I'm talking to on
the phone who knew the victim and who I have reason to believe might
have been in Claire's dorm room. That is all can say for certain. Once
I talk to some people and confirm your information, then I'll give you
the 411."
A pause. "No offense."
Ian Lai
It
was probably a lucky thing for them both that they were speaking over
the phone and not in person. In any case, whatever Ian's reaction to
being denied this information, all that Alyssa got was a long bout of
silence followed by a simple reply.
"Do whatever you have to do.
But we're talking about someone's life, and the clock is fucking
ticking, so the sooner we can help each other the better."
It probably took a lot for him to say that, but Alyssa didn't know him well enough to be able to infer that.
"You've got my number, so call me back when you have something."
Alyssa Solomon
It's
definitely a good thing for them both that they're speaking over the
phone. First off, they probably would have gotten into it over Alyssa's
refusal to provide information. Second, her reaction to Ian's attempt
to impress the gravity and time-sensitive nature of the situation on her
can't purely be described as polite.
"Yeah, I heard you say
that. It's not like I'm going to go back to texting with my bee-eff-eff
with a lot of el-oh-els, thanks. It's because there's lives at stake
that I'm not just taking you at face value."
Don't worry, Ian.
Some of her best friends started out in similar ways, or at least took
detours there along the way. She sighs. "Sorry. Yeah, I'll call you
as soon as I get confirmation. Take it easy, sport."
Ian Lai
All
things considered, it was probably one of the more cordial
conversations he'd had recently. And given the subject matter and the
stress that both of them were under, it could have gone a whole lot
worse.
"Right. Talk to you soon."
There was a faint edge of a
clip in his voice, but it was difficult to tell if it came from stress
or irritation. Either way, he kept it mostly under wraps.
Then he hung up the call, and the line went dead.
But it was something, at least. Even if it didn't end up leading anywhere.
