The burn was the worst of it but he still felt as though all his muscles had taken a beating. His nose itched and when he scratched it he found he was scratching off flakes of blood from an already dried bloody nose. That made him wonder how long he'd been unconscious but when he looked at his watch he found the face of it was shattered. With a sigh he unstrapped the band from his wrist and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans, then shoved himself to his feet.
Looking around he realized he was in a between world. There was fog all around but rather than twining around him like a cat it was leaving empty space in a circle around him. He took a few steps forward and it retreated in front of him, while filling in the space behind. Reaching out with his unburned hand, he tried to form it into a shape but it rejected him with a violence that was as shocking as it was painful. He bit his lip and tried to open a doorway instead, only to find himself knocked down on his ass by the backlash.
“Fuck.” He ran his good hand through his hair and got up again. “So now I'm stuck. And talking to myself.” He turned in a circle, trying to see something—anything—in the endless fog, then sat down right where he was and fumbled his cell phone out of his pocket. He was afraid it would be broken just like his watch but when he flipped it open the screen lit up with the usual pale green glow.
He thought for a moment then started calling numbers. After the first two calls he knew that Jones's apartment was empty and looked as though it had been left in a hurry. Neither contact was sure where Jones and the construct had gone but both promised to find out and call him back. He passed the information they had discovered along to more contacts and by the time he was finished Jones's bank account had been frozen, he'd been placed on the most wanted list for kidnapping and murder, and the police were searching the city, branching out from the apartment.
After the last phone call had ended, he leaned back on his elbows and debated if he wanted to try getting out of the between world again. He looked around and saw that the fog was still avoiding him, so instead he just lay back and stared up at the leaden grey sky. After a moment he closed his eyes and let himself drop into sleep, hoping that when he woke up he would be able to leave.
“Shasta.” Someone shoved his shoulder. “Open your eyes.”
“Must I?” Heaving a sigh, he did as he was told. “Oh. It's you. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Payment time. Where is it?”
“I'm on a job right now, Nevin. I'll pay you when I get paid.”
“Right now you're dreaming. This is my playground.” Nevin grabbed him by the shirtfront and hauled him to his feet. The ground dissolved away beneath him and suddenly he was dangling off the edge of an enormous cliff, held up only by Nevin's fist in his shirt. Far below him the waves slammed against the sharp jagged rock and sent spray twenty feet into the air.
“It's not real,” Shasta said, but his own voice sounded high and strange to his ears. “I will pay you, Nevin, you know I will. Quit it with the cheap parlour tricks.”
“You know as well as I do that for you, it's plenty real. What job are you on?”
Shasta hesitated but a quick glance down at the rocks below his feet decided him. “Some human snuck into The Collector's place and stole something. I'm supposed to go find it and bring it back.”
“Stole what?” Nevin let his hold loosen slightly, so that some of Shasta's shirt escaped his fist. Shasta's heart leaped into his throat and he grabbed at Nevin's arm, trying to slow his panicky breathing.
“A construct and a world sphere. You've made your point, okay? Knock it off.”
“The Collector's construct...” Nevin clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyes going distant. “I wonder what that would be worth.”
“More than your life. Don't even try it, Nevin.”
“You're not even a dreamwalker and The Collector thinks you can handle it. Though your face says otherwise.” Nevin dropped him and he nearly stopped breathing, but he dropped only a few inches before landing. His knees still gave out and spilled him to the ground, and he decided to stay there for the time being.
“Don't say I didn't warn you, Nevin.” He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. “If you even manage to get past the merc who stole it, it's not helpless. And The Collector's more likely to tear you apart than pay you.”
“I never said I was going to sell it back to The Collector.” Nevin patted his cheek. “That's your problem, Shasta. You think too small. I'll give you a small extension on your debt for this information. Pay me before the end of the week.” He took a step away then added over his shoulder, “Shiki says hello.”
“Fuck you,” Shasta replied, but Nevin had already disappeared. A moment later Shasta opened his eyes to the greyness of the fog-filled between world, and a crick in his neck from his awkward position on the hard ground.
He sat up and rubbed at his neck, then pushed himself to his feet. The fog had crept back in around him as he slept and now twisted around and through his legs. He reached a hand into it and carefully brought up a large feline shape. The shape rubbed its face against his hand, then faded away as he released his hold on it. Taking a deep breath he attempted to open a doorway, wincing in expectation of being thrown back again. Instead the doorway sluggishly opened and he stepped through it and into his bedroom before it could change its mind.
Sprawling out on the bed, he took a moment to close his eyes and just relax, then got up and went into the bathroom to doctor his burned hand and take a shower. He stood under the hot spray for a long time, feeling his muscles gradually relax, and when he stepped out he felt refreshed. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he went into his bedroom again to make a few more phone calls, the beginnings of an idea glimmering in his mind.
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