Page 23 of Booked for Kidnapping

Rather than lug the wheelchair around, I opted for the crutches, which would devour space in any vehicle Senator Westonhaus had selected for our venture. I also went through my cane selection, of which I had six of the damned things. Bradley had gotten me two, one with a lion for a handle and another with a dragon for a handle. His mother had gotten me one, which featured a plain silvered knob. The rest came from my co-workers, who were convinced if I didn’t have three extras, ranging from plain and practical to a piece of art that’d likely cost them a fortune, I might not lose them all. After some debate, I decided the dragon would be my best bet.

I took a purse and a briefcase with a good shoulder strap along for the ride, both of which were a gift from Bradley’s mother for the times I might need to show up in court without embarrassing myself, and I put my new laptop and tablet in it so I could take notes. Since I had no idea how long a dinner meeting might take, I took the chargers for both.

It never hurt to be prepared.

Ten minutes before Senator Westonhaus was scheduled to arrive, I hobbled down the stairs, leaned on my crutch, and read a procedural novel with a reputation of being accurate to life rather than a flight of fantasy. While the book wouldn’t be the same as a solid education, I hoped it would offer some hints about how to better run an investigation.

Unlike my life, the book featured a thief as the antagonist, a little escape from the harsher reality I faced.

At five sharp, a dark SUV pulled up with its hazard lights on, and an older man I recognized as Senator Westonhaus got out from the driver’s side. “Hello, Janette. I see you got upgraded to crutches?”

“My doctor thinks I will throw every wheelchair to cross my path down the nearest flight of steps, so she decided it was time to see if I could handle the crutches. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senator.” I slid my e-reader into my purse and limped over to shake hands with him.

“The pleasure’s mine.” He opened the front passenger door for me. “There’s plenty of room in the back for your crutches and cane. The restaurant will take us about an hour to get to with traffic. It seems the entire city has decided to go out tonight in addition to normal rush hour. My wife warned me, which is why our reservation is for seven with the option to show a little early if traffic allows, but we’ll have to face perilous perils.”

Perilous perils? Nowhere in my reading about the senator implied the man had a sense of humor. I made myself laugh at his commentary, got into the SUV, and handed over my crutches and cane before buckling in and putting my purse between my feet.

Thanks to self-treating the infection, my foot didn’t bother me all that much. What the lack of infection didn’t accomplish, the low dosage of painkiller did.

Not battling misery during the extended business meeting would make all the difference in the world.

While Senator Westonhaus didn’t serve New York, he drove like he’d been born in the city, zipping back into traffic without any evidence the ongoing vehicular battle bothered him. Then again, driving such a large SUV, he would win most disputes with the smaller cars, which helped make certain that people paid him some attention when he decided he was merging.

Rather than scream at him to let me out and run back to my apartment, I focused on my breathing to mask my growing tensions over how he drove.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did you know about Samantha? You have never been active in politics, so I was quite surprised to hear you were attending one of her rallies.”

Well, the articles I’d read about the senator hadn’t lied about his direct nature, at least. “I’m not active in politics, but I’d heard about one of the bills she’s co-sponsoring, and I wanted to see what she was about.”

“Are you in support of this bill?”

“Not particularly. You know the bill fairly well, so you should understand why it’s less-than-ideal for me if it does pass.”

“Ah. That bill. I’m surprised you’re aware of it. It hasn’t come to public attention yet.”

“My future mother-in-law is an attorney, and she follows legislation that might have consequences for her family,” I replied. “She takes such duties seriously. The legislation did change some of my plans regarding my engagement, but she’s satisfied she will have minimal difficulty protecting her family should the bill be passed.”

“In a way, that is a pity. The armed forces could use a skilled woman like you.”

“I’m not eligible for the draft even as written, nor would I be a good candidate for working within the military.”

“Really? Why would you say that?”

I raised a brow at him. “Well, unless you need someone who does blood-based medical work of the mending variety, I’d do the military zero good on the front lines. While I have some offensive and defensive capabilities, they don’t scale. I can’t just wave my hand and kill people, Senator. Also, I’m to be tested for other talents, as my exsanguination abilities are not behaving in a way expected for someone who isn’t a hybrid.”

“Ah. Hybridism in magic does complicate things. May I inquire what your hybridism is?”

“Probable mending,” I announced, unable to hide the pride in my voice. “I always wanted to be a nurse, but unfortunately, due to prior legislation, the medical field was robbed of my skills.”

“Ah. I see.” The man frowned. “Exsanguinators have interest in the medical field?”

“A significant number of flame elementalists become fire fighters. Why wouldn’t exsanguinators become doctors or nurses if allowed? We’re not drinking the blood for heaven’s sake. We’re not vampires. Sure, I can kill with my talent, but so can a flame elementalist. My abilities are best used in medical capacities. If it’s a bodily fluid, I can work with it, which is part of why my doctor thinks I’m actually a hybrid mender. Yes, I could kill you—but I’d much rather be saving you. My magic doesn’t define me, just like it doesn’t define most. There are menders who use their abilities to kill, but menders are considered to be the angels of society. If not for those unfounded prejudices, I could be an angel, too.”

“I see I’ve made a few errors in my base judgment.”

Yep, that was one way to put it. “I work in public service because I want to, and because men like you bar me from doing something else more valuable. You’re so focused on your hate you can’t see the trees in the forest. The things that go bump in the night are usually scarier than the reality. Sure, I can kill with my magic if I want to. So can any elementalist with a forty percent rating. Most talents can kill. Sensors can’t, at least not with their magic, but what’s stopping them from buying a gun and using that instead? People fear what they don’t understand. It just happens I have a very solid understanding of how the body works, and I can use this to save lives. That’s what I’m good at.”

“Well, you have a reputation. My sources tell me you can spray blood six stories.”