The club was pulsing on a Wednesday night when the phone vibrated in Tomas’s pocket. He ducked out a side door to an alley behind. The bouncer glanced at him, nodded once as Tomas took the call.
“Tomas.”
Lazarus. He had just talked to him earlier in the evening, and now he was calling again. What had Tomas done? “Have you done-
“No. Tell her not to use it. You know what I’m talking about.”
“The ring?” His witch, Shelly, was going to use the ring to bind the young man to them. The plan was simple. Kidnap the young man and Scott would have to come into New York and come looking for the boy. New York was Lazarus’ town, and all in the Row swore fealty to him. “Bring the prey into my web,” he had said. “And I’ll get that emerald.”
“It’ll bounce back,” he was saying.
“How?”
“Tomas. I can’t – just tell her not to do what she was going to do. I’ll take care of it here.”
“She was going to do the spell at the full moon. What do you want her to do with it?”
“Get rid of it.”
He heard someone call: “Bruce? If this is a bad time, I can go.”
Lazarus called to the other person: “No, I’ll be just a minute!” He spoke low into the phone to Tomas, “Got me?”
“Yes, sir. Are you certain?”
“Yes. Bye.”
Tomas hung up the phone, looking out at the neon night. How was he going to “take care of it”?
