Reg couldn’t exactly forget.
And Forst had been right about that dark key. Reg had been taken in by it, and the consequences had been much worse than Sarah would ever know.
“Yes… so you don’t think there is anything to be worried about? All of those protesters that were there…”
“People will protest anything. It’s their way of celebrating and proving that they aren’t just sheep. Even though they follow each other like sheep. Half the time they don’t even know why they are there. Whoever is in charge hands out the signs, and everyone marches around protesting something they didn’t even know about before.”
Reg nodded. She wondered which were true—that the Spring Games were causing a magical disruption in Black Sands, or that everything was in harmony as it should be?
With the way she had been feeling lately, anxious and unable to sleep, she had to think that it was the former. But maybe that wasn’t because of the Spring Games. Maybe that was because of Julian Sabat. Maybe she had known he was there to cause trouble for her even before he had first appeared. Her body had remembered his presence from back when she was a child.
“Is there somewhere I can direct a complaint about Julian Sabat and the way he’s treating me during this investigation?” she asked Sarah. “The guy is driving me crazy, and he’s not being professional at all. Shot me with some kind of lightning bolt today.” She took his pen out of her pocket and looked at it, as if visual examination might prove that it were something other than a regular pen. But it looked like a perfectly normal ballpoint to her. Sarah peered at it.
“I can pass the word along for you. It will have more of an impact coming from an old crone like me than a phone call from someone who is being investigated.”
“Okay.” Reg didn’t object to Sarah’s use of the phrase “old crone,” knowing it was used as a term of respect for an experienced witch like Sarah. Most of the time. “I’d really appreciate that. If they can call him off, that would be great.”
“Do you know what it is they’ve got their shorts in a knot over?”
“Something that happened in the Everglades,” Reg said vaguely. “There was a swamp goblin.”
“A swamp goblin.” Sarah made a face. “Nasty creatures. Why anyone would not want that race to become extinct, I don’t know.”
Reg nodded. “Exactly. Why are they bugging me about it?”
“They have their reasons. But swamp goblins…” Sarah shook her head. “What did you tell Julian?”
“Nothing, really. I just said I didn’t know what had happened.”
“And how much do you know?”
Reg raised her eyebrow and didn’t tell Sarah any details.
“Nothing,” Sarah confirmed with a nod. “Got it.”
Reg’s phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw that it was Davyn. She motioned to her appointment book. “When is my next opening?”
Sarah flipped pages. “Tomorrow afternoon. Unless you want to do something tonight. And I assume you would rather attend the Games…?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.” Reg swiped her phone to answer the call. “Hey. Davyn.”
“Reg!” Davyn’s voice was different. Bouncier and more cheerful than usual. “Are you home?”
“Yeah. My next opening is tomorrow afternoon. Is that good?”
“Perfect. Three?”
Reg looked at the page Sarah had open. There was nothing written in the block for three o’clock.
“Yes. That looks good.”
“We’re on, then.”
“What’s up?” Reg asked. “You sound… I don’t know. Excited. Something going on?”
“No, nothing.” Davyn let the words sit for only a fraction of a second before contradicting himself. “That friend of yours. Julian. What a charming fellow.”
Reg swallowed. “Charming? Really? I don’t think I would have used that word.”
“He is. We had a very nice chat. He has led a fascinating life.”
What exactly had Julian told Davyn about his life? Had he mentioned being in foster care? Knowing Reg? Or had he made a bunch of stuff up? What exactly would Davyn find interesting?
“He’s not exactly a friend,” she told Davyn cautiously.
“No, I understand that, but the two of you seem to get along well enough.”
Reg looked at Sarah, who, although pretending not to eavesdrop, could clearly hear Davyn’s voice from the phone. Sarah gave her head a little shake.
“He’s not the kind of guy I would get too close to,” Reg cautioned, trying to pull Davyn back.
“We’re going to meet for drinks later,” Davyn said, oblivious to her warning.
Reg sighed. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
Reg slept better that night after attending some of the Spring Games with Sarah. She was exhausted after several nights of poor sleep and dealing with Julian.
The Games were interesting. She was glad she had let Sarah talk her into going. Reg had seen magic acts before, always trying to spot the sleight of hand and figure out how each of the tricks was performed.
It was different to watch the Games and believe that what she was seeing was real. Maybe some of it was. But all of it? It all seemed so unbelievable. People and objects appearing and disappearing, being transformed before her eyes. Moving across the table or the stage. Most of the magic that she had seen since her move to Black Sands had been understated, things that were hidden or difficult to see. The showy magical performances had been very different. More like what she had seen from Harrison.
The air buzzed with magic and it seemed to take a lot out of Reg to watch it. She was inordinately tired after a few performances. She wasn’t the only one, as she saw a number of the members of the audience snoozing in their seats. Reg didn’t want to be vulnerable, dropping off in public where she was an easy target for anyone. Or to be more exact, an easy target for Julian or Corvin.
“I don’t like to leave early,” Reg told Sarah, “But do you think if there’s an intermission, we could sneak out?” She rubbed her eyes. “I know it’s still early, but I’m really wiped.”
Sarah looked toward the field, then nodded. “Of course.”
“If you want to stay, I can take an Uber. You don’t have to drive me.”
“I have seen most of this before. There is only so much you can do to show magic off visually, and one does get tired of all of the conjuring and telekinesis.” She made a gesture toward the field. “You could do most of what they are showing off.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“You have done much of it already. It wouldn’t be hard for you if you tried some of the other bits.”
“But I don’t really do magic. I’m just a psychic.”
Sarah smiled. “Yes, dear. Well, there are two more heats, and then we will be able to sneak out.”
“Great.” Reg rubbed her eyes and watched the witches and warlocks gathering on the field.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Davyn was more animated than Reg had ever seen him before when he showed up for their appointment. While he had her demonstrate her skills and gave her new exercises to do, he chattered on about his conversation the night before with Julian. They had apparently gone to the Games together and then stayed up talking most of the night. Davyn had a day job to go to, so Reg didn’t imagine he’d gotten very much sleep between the late-night visit and going to the office. And with a three o’clock afternoon appointment with Reg, he would have had to leave the office early. But maybe he was senior enough to dictate his own hours. Or he had taken the week off for the Spring Games. Reg imagined a number of people had probably done that. Maybe some of the local offices had even closed during the Games to allow their employees to attend.
“You know I don’t like Julian, don’t you?” Reg asked finally, after Davyn dropped yet another “Julian said.”
He looked at her. For a minute, he didn’t say anything. He looked away, frowning. “I really think you should give him
another chance,” he said finally. “He’s a good guy.”
Reg shook her head. “No, he’s not.”
“You don’t know him like I do—”
“You’ve known him for a day! I’ve lived with the guy.”
“That was when you were kids. It was a long time ago. He could have changed during that time.”
“You have no idea what kind of person he is. He hasn’t changed. I’ve seen him, I’ve talked with him. Not as much as you have, maybe, but enough to know that he hasn’t changed, not one bit.”
Davyn opened his mouth to argue.
“Okay, maybe he’s gotten sneakier. Maybe he’s able to charm people better now than he could when we were kids, but he’s still the same guy.”
“I think you’re misjudging him,” Davyn said earnestly. “You’re adversarial because he’s investigating you. But there’s no reason to be that way. He’s just trying to find out the truth. He doesn’t have an agenda. He’s not out to get you.”
Reg shook her head, her lip curling in distaste. “I know Julian. You don’t. And you haven’t been in the room when he’s been interviewing me. There’s a reason I’m ‘adversarial.’”
Davyn rubbed his chin. “Maybe you should have someone in the room. A witness, and someone who can give you some advice and insight. It’s hard to see things clearly when you’re so close to it all.”
The flames in Reg’s hands flared up, causing them both to flinch back, despite being firecasters.
“Stay in control,” Davyn warned.
Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just trying to provoke her to see if she could keep her attention and control. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d resorted to something like that. Reg hoped that was the case, rather than that he just really liked Julian and wanted them to be friends.
Reg focused, trying to let go of her feelings about Julian and the way Davyn was poking at her emotions and to focus only on the flame. She stared into the dark center of the ball of fire, feeling the warmth of it going over her in waves, letting herself become the fire.
She let Davyn fade from her view. It was just her, a singular flame in the darkness.
“Keep it focused,” Davyn warned. “Don’t feed it. Don’t let it get so big.”
Reg hated to pull back. It felt so good when she let the flame burn and just watched it, from the inside and the outside. That was when she felt at peace and balanced.
“Bring it down,” Davyn said. She could feel him squeezing it, pushing the flames back and compacting them into a ball.
Reg groaned. She let the flame go out.
“You’re distracted today,” Davyn observed.
“No kidding. And I’m sure you have no idea why I would be so distracted today.”
“I know it’s hard to concentrate with the Spring Games going on. You would rather be there. You’re probably anticipating seeing them tonight.”
Reg shook her head. “It’s not the Spring Games. I can take or leave the Spring Games. It’s you.”
Davyn’s brows went up and his eyes widened. “Me? I’m here to help guide you and keep you focused on what you’re doing. Without me, your experiments would get too big. You would end up killing yourself or burning the house down before you learned how to control it.”
“And how do you think it is helping to come in here chattering on about Julian?”
“Chattering on?” Davyn looked taken aback. “Reg…”
“You have been. You’ve got a serious crush on this guy.”
Davyn’s face flushed. Reg laughed in disbelief. “That’s it, isn’t it? You like him.”
“I told you I like him.” Davyn’s breathing had sped up. He sounded a bit like he had been running. “He’s an interesting person. I enjoyed talking with him.”
“Uh-huh. And you can’t wait to get back together with him, can you?”
“It’s not that bad.” Davyn scratched the back of his neck. “I just thought he was interesting…”
“When are you seeing him again?”
“Uh… I don’t know.”
“When?” Reg pressed. Even though they were talking about Julian, she was enjoying herself. She liked seeing Davyn squirm. Liked the way he got flushed and embarrassed and wasn’t sure what to say.
“Tonight,” Davyn admitted, looking down. “We’re going to go to the Games together again.”
“Second date already! He moves fast.”
“It’s not like that,” Davyn sputtered. “We just really clicked.”
“Well, I’m all for you having a good time, but watch yourself. Because Julian is not what you think he is.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Reg decided that she would not go to the Games again. That way, she could be sure that she wouldn’t run into Julian and Davyn. She could have the cottage to herself and not worry about any appointments because everyone else was at the Games.
“We’re just going to veg in front of the TV,” she told Starlight. “No clients. No readings. No Julian. Just you and me and the silver screen.”
Starlight purred and rubbed against her legs. Reg thought she’d better make sure they had ice cream and whatever other snacks she would need before beginning her couch potato marathon. She looked in the cupboards, fridge, and freezer. There was a severe lack of junk food. A situation that would need to be remedied immediately.
“Any requests?” she asked Starlight.
He butted his head against her leg, and Reg was assailed with a very strong mental image of a can of tuna.
“Okay, then. I think I can manage that.” Reg laughed. She remembered Julian asking her if she could communicate with cats. Cats were easy. They almost always wanted just one thing. Even without an image of tuna in her head, she would still have known that Starlight wanted fish. What else would he ask for? Other than seeing his friend Nicole, of course.
She was still chuckling to herself when she added a couple of cans of tuna to her shopping cart at the store half an hour later. Ice cream. Root beer. Cookies. She was going to make it a proper party. And she would pick the shows or movie. No having to make sure it met with anyone else’s approval. Sometimes it was nice just to be by herself.
“What are you laughing at?”
Reg whirled around. She had not expected to see anyone at the store, thinking all of her friends would be getting ready to go to the Games.
Julian stood behind her, watching her thoughtfully. “They say to be careful of people who laugh at their own jokes.”
“What are you doing here?” Reg demanded, her voice harsh.
He displayed a bottle of wine. “Just picking up some necessities.” He looked down at her cart. “Looks like someone is going to be home alone tonight,” he taunted.
Reg’s anger erupted. She was looking forward to being alone. Being alone was her choice. What she wanted. She didn’t care if he were buying the wine to share with Davyn. He could do what he liked with Davyn. But Reg could do what she wanted, and she wanted to stay at home.
“Leave me alone!” she growled, not caring about who saw and heard her. “It’s none of your business what I do. Get your groceries and get out! Don’t even talk to me!”
The bottle in Julian’s hand burst. He stared down at his red-stained loafers in dismay, mouth dropping open.
“How could you!” he fumed.
He dropped the neck of the bottle to the floor and went for his pocket. Reg didn’t know what kind of weapon he had there. She was sure that he would have a license, whatever it was. But a person couldn’t just pull a weapon in a grocery store. She tried to freeze Julian in place and get whatever he had in his pocket, but he resisted. He was moving slowly, but he was still moving, and if he had a loaded gun, he might still be able to get off a shot before she could get it away from him.
“Stop!” Reg tried again to freeze him. She grabbed his arm, but it was his left instead of his right and he continued to move his right freely. Maybe even faster than he had done just a moment before. Reg gripped his arm ha
rder and pulled him toward her. She was an instant faster than Julian and grasped for what he had in his pocket.
It was, at first glance, a slender stick. But Reg saw it for what it was. A wand. None of the other witches or warlocks she knew used wands, at least they hadn’t around her. Maybe it was special issue for Magical Investigators. Perhaps they were allowed to carry around a dangerous weapon and others were not. Any of Reg’s friends might have a wand that they usually left at home. She had never asked.
Having never seen one used, she wasn’t sure how it was done. But she’d seen enough TV, and she’d already dealt with Julian using his pen as a wand. She pulled it back and kept it out of his reach, putting a wall of protection around herself.
“Give that back!” Julian snapped. “You think you can attack an investigator for MI without consequences? Give me my wand!”
“You’re the one attacking me. I’m just defending myself. You were going to use this on me!”
“You blew up my bottle!”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that.” But despite her denial, Reg had a sinking feeling that he was right. She hadn’t yet been able to get control of the things that happened around her when she got angry. She had been hoping that her work with Davyn would help in that regard, and maybe it had helped a little, but that all went out the window when she saw Julian and he started to taunt her. “You can get another bottle. Just leave me alone.”
Julian stood staring at her, his face all twisted up in anger. She knew that he would attack her if he could, but with her protections up, there was nothing he could do. She was stronger than he was. It gave her a flush of pride, a warmth that spread from her stomach outward to her limbs and cheeks. He was a trained agent of some kind, and she was stronger than he was. She had taken his weapon and he couldn’t do anything without it. He couldn’t even get close to her.
“You have no idea what kind of trouble you are in,” Julian growled. “This is unacceptable. You could be bound. Held for a hundred years! How would you like that?”
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