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Oh gods, there - there it was. The signature, his signature that he’d been searching for for so long. Laid out through this alleyway like a trail of breadcrumbs that he hastily followed, all the way to where it ended around the corner: hidden between dumpsters, curled up as tightly as its owner must have been. Wavering around a small, dark stain long since soaked into the concrete.
The sight smashed the breath from him, whole body stiffening for one long minute. Worse than he thought - wasted too much time - but, it can’t be too late. It just couldn’t.
It couldn’t.
One finger skirting the edge of the stain, Daryk looked around to see if the trail led anywhere else. It didn’t. Just stopped cold, right there. Which made no sense. None whatsoever. Maybe it was that damn silver, intermittently dampening its owner’s aura. Or maybe...he’d been picked up. Picked up and carried away, leaving no further clue to follow. A sharp pain shot through his jaw, and he realized he’d been clenching his teeth again. With a sigh he got to his feet. If that had been the case, he could only pray it had been by some benevolent soul. The alternative, didn’t bear thinking about.
Small wisps of a breeze rustled around his collar, tugged at the hem of his pants. A gentle push in the direction of the street. His lips tightened in a thin line. It was right: he couldn’t let this go. He strode around to the store front: upscale home decor, judging by the sign above the door. A little bell tinkled to announce his entrance, and he let it swing firmly shut behind him. Kaleidoscopes of his stern face reflected off artistic mirrors, broken up by columns of artwork as he made his way to the back, to the cashier’s counter. A woman stood there; busy with her magazine, lazily flipping through its pages, occasionally blowing a loud bubble with her gum. She couldn’t be more clear if she had hung a neon sign off the counter. But he hadn’t walked in here to trade niceties anyways.
Nonchalantly he leaned an elbow on the counter. “Afternoon, ma’am. Just came in to ask a quick question. Do you mind?”
The stiff arch of her eyebrow said she very much did mind. “Sure, how can I help you.”
“I was wondering if you’d seen anyone around the outside of this store this morning. Namely in the back alley. Teen boy, little taller than I am, really scruffy ‘round the edges?”
“No.” She scowled, licking her finger to turn another page. “I came in a couple hours ago, no one here. That it?”
Of course she hadn’t. “What about your coworkers? Had they mentioned anything, seen anything?”
“No. Look, if you’re not here to buy anything, then I can’t help —”
“Hey!” A new voice from the back, gruff and irritated. Its owner, a man whose scowl put the cashier’s to shame, came up to stand behind her. “Who’s botherin’ you, Brandi.”
“This wack job. Comin’ in here asking if we’d seen somebody.”
Daryk straightened; not so much as to seem a little more assertive as to put a bit more distance between him and them. “My apologies, sir, I just came in to ask some questions. I’m looking for a friend of mine, and it’s important that I find him as fast as possible.”
“An’ what, you don’t understand the word ‘no’?” He crossed his arms, brows beetling. “No one’s been in here all day. I’ve been here since this morning.”
“Not in the store. Outside. In the alley, by the back door, anything.”
There, that must’ve done something. The man’s expression instantly changed - but not into anything more favorable. “Oh, then yeah there was somebody. Last night, right before close. Some punk kid diggin’ through our garbage.”
Punk kid. He stilled. “And what did you do? Is he still here?”
“Hell no, he ain’t here! Chased him off like the stray he is! Made sure he knew not to come back! We’re not runnin’ a charity here, get outta here.”
“You… Ran. Him. Off.” Gods, he had to be dreaming. This had to be a nightmare. But he couldn’t even pinch himself to wake up. “Ran him off.”
“Yeah I did, that’s what I said! You stupid or something? He ain’t got no right to be hangin’ around like this is some three-star hotel. If he’d stuck around I’d’ve really let —”
His hands slammed the countertop, interrupting him with a loud bang. The two both stiffened, but said nothing. When he brought his head up to meet their shocked faces, his eyes were stormy, glowing, expression wrathful. “Don’t. Continue that sentence.” Now that sickening stain made sense. That pain in his jaw was back, bringing with it anxious knots in his gut. Never before had he had to so resist strangling a man. But he couldn’t afford jail time. Slowly he worked his jaw loose as he stood up straight once more. “Thank you,” he spat. “For your time.”
For nothing.
They nodded, still in silent shock. He pivoted, jacket whirling around, and stomped back the way he came. The bell jingle no longer gentle, and a sudden wind slamming the door shut.