by CC Dragon
“Sounds reasonable. Part of me hopes the kid is there safe in Coldfoot,” I said.
“Me, too, and we can knock that out quicker. The para groups are North, but not that far north, the majority anyway. Very few down south,” he said.
I nodded. “More population, more action, and it’s harder to lose a kid without someone seeing something.”
“Or their location is north, and we’ll end up sucked into it. I think we may have to consider some of the darker magical groups that hide from humans. Shake some trees and see what falls out,” he said.
“Is your friend going to be our pilot?” I asked.
“I’m the pilot. I haven’t just been sitting around Bethel since I left.” He smirked.
“Oh, great,” I said.
“Nervous?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Bush planes are the Ubers of Alaska. I’ll be ready in no time.”
The landing in Coldfoot was a bit bumpy, but we had good weather. The eerie beauty of the North had been hard to appreciate when I was up in Prudhoe Bay on a full tilt raid to save the women.
We caught an actual Uber to the Malcheston home, Joey’s grandparents. A quick visual check of the yard and open garage showed no signs of a child living there.
“Zel said no kid is registered to the local schools under Wallis or Malcheston,” I said as we walked to the door.
Mason knocked.
An older woman answered. “Yes?”
“Hi, we’re with the FBI just following up on your grandson’s disappearance. Can we ask you some questions?” I flashed my badge.
She nodded and opened the door wider. “My daughter said you might be coming. We thought it’d be state troopers, though. My hubby wanted to be on that show.”
“I’m not sure they’re even filming anymore. But we just want to check in if you’ve had any contact or sightings of Joey,” I said.
Mrs. Malcheston showed us in. “She said you’d want to search the house. Maybe the town. Go ahead. We don’t have Joey here. I’d never approve of keeping him from his brother.”
“That’s good to know. Mind if I do look around the house?” Mason asked.
“Help yourself. I do have the guest room with a twin bed for my daughter and bunk beds for the boys—for when they used to come visit. Probably a good layer of dust in there. I hate thinking about it or even going in there anymore.” She sat in a big recliner in the living room.
She pointed to the man in the other recliner. “My husband.”
He stood and shook my head. “No troopers?”
“Sorry. FBI. Any reason why your grandson might’ve run off?” I asked.
“No, he didn’t run off. Wouldn’t leave his mama.” Mr. Malcheston waved it off.
I sat on a blue plaid sofa that was hard a rock. “Can you think of anyone who would want to take or harm your grandson?”
They both looked at me like I was crazy.
“He’s a little boy. I can’t imagine who would want to hurt him. Unless they’re a sicko, and I can’t think about that. No one around here. We keep an eye out for each other,” he said.
“That’s nice. I hope we haven’t intruded too much. If you think of anything, please give us a call.” I set down our cards on the table between their recliners.
Mason walked out from the back. “You have a lovely home. We’ll be on our way.”
“Pull the door hard behind you,” she called from her recliner.
We made sure the door was shut and headed out to the street.
“That was weird,” I said.
“No sign of a kid staying here recently.” He shrugged. “He’s got no magic. She feels like she’s suppressing something.”
“I agree. Let’s grab a drink at a bar to get a feel for the town a bit. Then we take a quick ride around and head back to Fairbanks,” I suggested.
It was a quick but brisk walk to the Coldfoot Saloon. We ordered our drinks and sat at the bar.
I felt the eyes on us.
“What brings you to town?” as the bartender as he delivered my wine.
“Work. Checking on a missing person,” I said.
Mason had a soft drink since he still had to fly.
“Cops?” the bartender asked.
“Something like that,” Mason replied.
“We don’t take friendly to that sort around here.” The bartender folded his arms.
“Sorry.” Mason went to sip his drink, but I put my hand over the glass.
“What?” he asked.
I dipped my finger in his drink and felt the potion.
I did the same to my drink.
“He doesn’t mean law enforcement. He means us.” I magically whipped Mason’s drink at the bartender.
“No paras or demons allowed,” the bartender said.
I froze him and opened his mouth with my mind. I levitated the glass of wine and poured it down his throat.
“Dot,” Mason said.
“He should suffer the fate he wanted for us,” I said.
When we turned to leave, a group of men blocked the door. Some had crucifixes and other chanted prayers.
“Are they serious?” Mason asked.
I laughed. “We’re not possessed or vampires.”
“Go back where you came from,” the bartender said.
“We’re trying.” Mason gestured to the mob blocking the door.
“On three?” I asked him.
He nodded.
“One, two, three.” We both waved our hands and forcibly moved the mob to either side.
We walked out of the bar and headed straight for the plane.
“That explains Mrs. Malcheston. If she has magic, she hides it deep here. If the kid has it, she won’t keep him—even hidden—here for long. It’s not safe,” I said.
“Never encountered that sort of open prejudice and magic acknowledgement in humans.” Mason put on his headphones.
As he started the plane, I heard a gunshot.
I looked outside, and a couple of the idiots from the bar had followed us.
“Did they hit the plane?” Mason asked.
I shook my head. “Take off now. I’ve got them.”
I opened the window and made a grabbing motion. Their guns all yanked free of their hands and fell to the ground.
The men chased us, and I wondered just how far they’d go to get back at a couple of magical FBI agents who came to town. With a wave, I sent them all slamming to the ground to slow them down.
“How did they pick up on us?” Mason asked.
“No clue.” I closed my eyes and was glad I had backup that I trusted.
The next morning in a Fairbanks diner, I watched lean-and-in-shape Mason put away a lot of breakfast. He was a good-looking distraction from reality, if nothing else.
“You do miss restaurants in big cities,” I teased.
“The village has limited options, but it’s home. I’m safe there. Unlike Coldfoot. But you showed your true colors there. Your powers are more than you want to deal with,” he said.
I looked around, but we were in the back, as requested, and it was before the morning rush.
“When my adrenaline is running my magic, they just work. But that can lead to unfortunate overreactions, as you well know. Then others have to cover my overuse of magic.” I had to rub it in. “My powers aren’t straightforward. I never learned how to deal with them. The Faes who raised me couldn’t figure it out either.”
He nodded. “Good shot. Controlling your powers will make you stronger. Fae isn’t a mystery, but your powers don’t seem limited to that.”
“Unfortunately, I have no family left to ask about my dad or the details. I’m as is.” I shrugged and focused on my breakfast.
“We should get some sandwiches to take along for lunch. Who knows how long we’ll be out there, and it’s not exactly in a hub of civilization,” Mason said.
“True. But if nothing is out there, I just wonder. Some whole magical towns are hidden, according to you.” I s
tared at him.
“They are, for protection against humans. Of humans also, honestly. Who needs someone to stumble on a vampire or shifter town and go tell the media?” Mason smiled.
His brown eyes sparkled a bit.
“You miss this,” I said.
“You miss Mitch,” he said.
“I’m used to him, but I can’t talk to him like this about cases. I miss having someone around I can, other than Zel who is looking for her next husband or my first one,” I admitted.
“You have Hall and Thorn now, granted not FBI but law enforcement. Good contacts,” Mason said.
I sipped my coffee and nodded. “True.”
“What?” Mason prompted.
“Could you really just go back and be a village officer again?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Can you go back and just deal with humans and FBI cases? It’s stifling your magic. At least I’m free to learn to fly a plane or build my healing magic that you seem to think I have.”
“You belong there. I’m jealous. I don’t belong anywhere. You at least know where you fit in. Where you come from. I’m not welcome in the Fae worlds,” I said.
“You live on the line between magic and mortal. You seem to like it there.” He pulled out the menu from the side of the table and looked at the lunch options.
“I don’t.” I stabbed my eggs.
“Alaska is full of people who don’t fit in. Who don’t belong anywhere. Who want to live by their own rules. Make your own rules. Hell, make your own town and only let those who agree with you in. But see you, you want to get the bad guys, magic or not. That means dealing with people.” He smiled. “You won’t be happy isolated, because the job never ends. There is always another bad guy out there—human or para.”
“You’re right.” I took the menu from him as he went to set it back. “I just hate feeling alone in the battle.”
He looked me in the eye. “You’re not alone. You just aren’t good at networking with paras. Humans are safer. You get defensive when you talk about your powers and are around magical people.”
“I don’t fit into an easy category like most. You’re Native. I’m a dysfunctional half Fae.” I scanned the options and decided quickly.
“And my village would keep you in a second.” He signaled for the server to come over.
“That’s weird,” I admitted.
We placed our to-go order and got the bill.
“You’re weird. You don’t look down on a Native village. You saw the value in me, so you must have sense and taste.” Mason grinned.
“Or I’m single, and your mom is getting desperate to marry you off,” I teased.
“You’d get bored there,” he warned.
I put down my bureau credit card for payment. “You will too. I think you already are.”
Hours later, we landed in the middle of nowhere, but the GPS coordinates lined up with what we’d mapped out. It was open and creepy. A stream and some animals were all I saw.
“Maybe it was a bust to start, but we can go back and interview families nearby,” Mason said.
It was my gut that led us here, and it still said there was a reason.
I walked a few yards away and felt magical ripples in the air.
I gestured for him to join me.
“We’re not alone,” I whispered.
He looked around. “I can feel it. We’re close, but I don’t think it’s a lot of people. No town is hidden here.”
“Definitely not a town. All I need is a lead.” I closed my eyes and felt out the magic ripples then headed in the direction of their flow.
I made it about ten feet when a shot rang out, and I was the target.
Chapter Eighteen
I could’ve dropped to the ground, but magic impulses took over.
I blew the bullet up in the air, and my blood fired up.
Mason cast a wide spell, and the hunting cabin and man with a rifle were exposed.
Magically, I yanked the gun from his hand, but that wasn’t the most dangerous part.
“I thought you were just boring humans,” the hunter scoffed.
He cupped his hand like he was going to throw a baseball, but it was a fireball heading right for me.
“Dot,” Mason said as he hurled magic at the hunter.
“I got him.” I caught the fireball and whipped it back at the hunter’s head.
Mason muttered spells as the hunter struggled to move.
“Damn it!” the hunter took the full brunt of the fireball.
We rushed up on the hunter and bound his magic.
“What did you do?” I asked Mason.
“Played with gravity to hold his limbs down,” Mason said.
“You two are dumb. I’m not a danger to anyone. You’re trespassing,” he said.
I smiled at Mason. “Can I kill him?”
The hunter’s eyes bugged out. He was dressed head-to-toe in camo but clearly had enough magic to make himself completely invisible.
Mason cleared his throat. “Not something to joke about.”
I shrugged as an inner heat built. “When children go missing, I get aggressive. I don’t like people who hurt children.”
“I don’t. I haven’t even hurt any animals yet.” The hunter shrugged. “He’s a Native. What are you?”
“What are you?” I shot back.
“Warlock. Nothing super powerful. But my friends are. You interrupted a hunting trip,” he said.
“Out here?” Mason asked.
“People hunt all over. I don’t want to deal with tourists or troopers. I want peace and quiet. Easier to sneak up on prey if you’re invisible. Then you two show up,” he grumbled.
Two men appeared from behind the cabin and drew their weapons.
“Back off,” one said.
I whipped their guns away with a wave.
“One of them is a powerful Fae,” I said to Mason.
“Dot Foster. I’ve heard of you. A weak part Fae no one will allow in the Underhill. Are you here to steal my magic?” the tall blond Fae male demanded.
“If I can, cool.” I shot fire from my hands in a ropelike formation to connect and pull his magics.
“I am Toval. You are nothing,” He lifted his hand.
Then the ground shook hard. I held my connection and sucked some of Toval’s power. He levitated to avoid the Earthquake.
Suddenly, I found myself matching him.
The other hunters were being shook. Mason stood still. He’d harnessed the Earth in another way.
Toval tried to reverse my magical connection. His eyes glowed an icy blue. Instead of fighting, I summoned all the magic I’d sucked from him and sent it at once with a shock blast of my own.
He fell to the ground limp.
“Got him?” I asked.
Mason nodded as the earthquake stopped. “Both are stuck in the gravity.”
“Your friend is powerful,” Toval said as he struggled.
“What are you doing here in a magically protected hunting cabin?” I asked.
“Hunting,” the other guy said.
“Right, a warlock and a Fae go hunting. For what? Humans?” Mason asked.
The men cursed and groaned.
“Gravity is a powerful force,” I said.
“Very.” Mason nodded. “I can crush you both.”
Toval twisted under the strain. “Natives and Fae generally don’t fight. What offends you?’
“I’m asking the questions. What is this place?” Mason asked.
“A hideout?” I pressed.
“Hideout? From who? You must live among humans. We only visit.” The warlock grinned.
I walked over to the cabin and couldn’t enter. “Access to the Underhill?”
“Friends are welcome,” Toval mocked. “You shouldn’t meddle in private matters. Magical recreation is not your business.”
Mason tightened his grip. “Careful, I’ve seen her kill warlocks without a second thought.”
It was a bit of a lie.
I thought about it. I still didn’t truly regret it, but our captives didn’t need to know that. “Mason, check it out. It won’t let me in.”
“Destroy it,” he said.
“What?” Toval was offended.
“You can build another access point. Plenty of ways to get home for you. Maybe you should stay there?” Mason suggested.
“I’ll just get some extra power.” I put my hand on the warlock’s neck and pulled his powers. Not able to enter, I focused on the center of the home and pressed my hands together. Gathering all of my stolen powers, I flipped my hands palm out, and the hunting cabin turned inside out, exposing the interior.
It looked like a hunting cabin, but instead of moose or bear heads on the wall, two Native human heads were there.
“Oh no,” I said.
“Warlocks have to hate someone. I don’t have a problem with you,” Toval said.
Mason’s dark eyes went darker, if that was possible. The rage on his face was something I’d never seen before. Worse, I could feel it vibrating off of him.
“You’re hunting people? The Fae can’t approve of that,” I said.
“Which is why we do it here,” the warlock said.
I stood over the hole in the ground. It still wouldn’t let me in. I felt the block. I didn’t belong there. Or someone didn’t want me there. Was it a relative who didn’t want to deal with my mother’s mixed offspring?
“Dot, you okay?” Mason asked.
“Go in there and turn them in,” I said.
“I didn’t do it,” Toval screamed.
“Tell the Fae what you’ve done, or I’ll let Mason kill you. Either way.” I shrugged and stepped back from the access to a place I’d never see.
Of course, I stayed with humans. I had no choice. Other magical beings didn’t want a rogue part Fae. In Anchorage, the misfits and partials mingled and passed for human. The FBI was the most normal place I felt except a random magic bar that let everyone with a hint of paranormal in.
“He can’t go down there. He’s not welcome,” the warlock said.
I shrugged. “I thought Natives are always welcome in the Fae unless they’ve offended. You’ve offended the Natives, and he could start a war over this.”
Toval stared up at the heads.
“Go with the evidence,” I said.
Mason walked into the hole in the Earth and pulled the cabin in with him.