by Lori Drake
“The older they are, the smarter they get.” It wasn’t even my theory, but I resented the way he wanted to dismiss it out of hand. Meanwhile, Escobar’s eyes bounced between us as if he were watching a fascinating tennis match while he finished his donut.
Payne sat there frowning for a few moments more, then shrugged. “I suppose it’s plausible, but I don’t know how likely it is.”
I set my coffee down and reached for the remains of my donut. “But if it’s possible, the longer the homunculus persists, the more magic it might need, which would account for escalation. Hell, it could have been doing this for a long time, but it didn’t need so much that it was in danger of burning anyone out until now.”
Escobar finally spoke up, glancing between Payne and me. “Okay, well, that’s one thought. But if it is a homunwhatas… how do we track it?”
“Homunculus.” I studied my donut for an uncomfortable moment, then shrugged. “I have no idea.” I bit off as much donut as I could chew, to give myself a chance to think.
Payne licked his fingers, then wiped them on his uniform pants and dusted crumbs from his chest. “Not my problem,” he said, earning a frown from me. It didn’t seem to bother him any. “I suggest you try some old-fashioned police work and see if you can find anything that would link the victims. If they are, indeed, victims of something besides their own hubris. You do know that ninety-nine percent of all burnouts are accidental, entirely the fault of the witch, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “But you know it doesn’t happen this frequently either. Two or three in a week, in a town this size? Maybe in Los Angeles or New York, but Santa Fe? There just aren’t enough witches by sheer population density.”
Ignoring me, he addressed Escobar. Zero points for him. “I’ll be in town a few more hours. Call me if there’s something you need me to look at.”
With that said, Deputy Payne exited the cubicle and disappeared around the corner.
I must have given Escobar a questioning look because he shrugged. “He’s the only witch on the county sheriff’s payroll, so he’s stretched pretty thin. He’s right, though. We have some good old-fashioned police work to do.”
I popped the last bite of donut in my mouth and resisted the urge to reach for another one. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter 16
Escobar and I worked through the day poring over case files, evidence, and rap sheets for the “usual suspects” looking for any links between or to the victims. The lunch hour came and went without either of us noticing.
By the time I left the station, I was starving. I checked my phone while I considered what to pick up on the way home for dinner. It’d buzzed a few times over the course of the day, but I’d ignored it. I had a message from Matt, checking in like any other Saturday, one from Barry, asking if I’d had a good time at the concert, and one from Dan. Just one, rather than a flurry of them.
Dan: want 2 get something 2 eat?
Well, I did. And while I didn’t necessarily want to hang out with my annoying, slightly-less-estranged-than-he-had-been-a-few-days-ago brother, I felt like maybe this hint of personal growth ought to be rewarded. Or at least not ignored. The message was less than an hour old, so I fired off a reply and hopped in my car.
We met at my second-favorite restaurant in Santa Fe, Tres Hermanos. Normally I’d be all in for the Tin Whistle, but I didn’t want to risk an encounter with Hector. After all, I hadn’t held up my end of the bargain. I’d found Dan, but I hadn’t filled Hector in on that—or anything else I’d been up to involving his burned-out friends. How much of it was actually his business was debatable, anyway.
The warmth and fragrant aromas washing over me as I stepped inside made my stomach rumble loudly. The place was packed, standing room only in the waiting area with some spillover outside. I found Dan inside, flirting with the hostess.
“There she is!” Dan exclaimed upon seeing me, his lips curved in a broad smile. “I got us on the list already. The lovely Gabrielle here says our table is just about ready.” He turned his attention back to the hostess, who was blushing but flowering under his attention. “Gabrielle is such a cool name…”
It was too late to turn around and go back outside, but I’ll admit the impulse was there. Instead, I hovered in the vicinity and soaked in the atmosphere. Did I mention the smells? I felt like I was wrapped in a warm, fresh tortilla. Like a human burrito. Cumin, chile, onion, garlic, and peppers… this was my comfort food.
Dan caught my attention a moment later, and we were whisked away to a small table in the middle of the room. Tired, I leaned on the table and stared at the menu without really seeing it. I knew what I wanted, anyway. Remember that burrito Hector was eating at the cafe, smothered in green chile? I wanted that. I mean, not that specific one because that was days ago and who knew if he got it refrigerated in a timely fashion.
Dan snapped his fingers in front of my face. I probably wasn’t paying as much attention to him as he wanted. “Hello? You in there?”
I blinked, focusing on him with a frown. “Yeah, sorry. Long day.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, surprising me with what seemed like genuine interest. “I spent the whole day doing a whole lot of nothing, so… please. Let me live vicariously through you.”
“Eh, it wasn’t that interesting. I just did some research with Escobar.”
“Oh! How’s it going? Did you tell him about the homunculus?” he asked, latching onto the topic immediately. I should have expected that.
I flipped the menu closed and sat back in my chair, toying with the edge of the tablecloth while the waitress dropped off our water glasses. As she moved off again to give Dan a little more time with the menu, his attention settled on me once more.
“Yeah, it came up,” I said. “I got to meet the witch from the county sheriff’s office.”
“Was she hot?”
“Why do you assume it was a woman?”
“I didn’t, but if it was a guy I don’t care if he was hot. Unless you thought he was hot, I suppose. So, was he or she hot?” he asked while studying the menu.
“No, he definitely wasn’t hot. He was actually kind of a smarmy asshole. Anyway, we still haven’t found anything in particular that would link the attacks—if they even are attacks.”
“Have you considered a psychic?”
“Be serious.”
“I am being serious.” He flipped his menu closed and set it aside. Somehow he made slouching in that chair look suave.
“No, I haven’t considered a psychic. Even if they pointed us right to the source, their testimony would be thrown out in court.” Prosecuting magical crimes was a tricky business. So much of the evidence is intangible by its very nature, so police still have to rely on more conventional evidence if they want justice to be served. Psychic testimony was the exact opposite of what they needed.
Dan waved a hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. So, this witch. Did he have any ideas?”
“That’s the thing.” I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. “He didn’t seem particularly interested in helping at all. Like it was just a formality for him to show up for a consult, but he had better things to do. I guess I’m seeing why Escobar wanted my help so badly.”
“Why can’t he just hire an actual witch?”
“He had one, but she committed suicide a few weeks ago. They haven’t hired a new one yet. I don’t know what it’s like in Boston, but a lot of the witches here don’t trust the police.”
“And you do?” He sipped his water.
“As a whole, not really. But I trust Escobar.” I was glad he didn’t ask why, because I wasn’t sure I had a good answer for that.
The waitress returned to take our order, and once she left I managed to steer the conversation away from the case and onto other things. Recent movies. Popular music. I had the sudden impulse to get to know Dan better. I quickly discovered that if there’s one thing Dan likes to talk about, it’s Dan. I didn’t mind. I let his chatte
r wash over me, finding it strangely comforting.
I was about halfway through my delicious burrito when the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I glanced up from my plate and across the table at my brother. Judging from his expression, he felt it too. A surge of magic. Powerful magic. Sudden, stark, and nearby. I glanced around the dining room, but it wasn’t inside the restaurant. If we could feel it, and it wasn’t even in the room, that was significant. We didn’t say a word, just pushed back our chairs almost simultaneously and grabbed our coats. I think he threw some money down on the table. I’m not really sure, but no one tried to stop us for dining and ditching as we wove our way quickly through the maze of tables to the door.
Even when we got outside, the source was difficult to pinpoint. It wasn’t in the immediate vicinity. Outside, people were waiting for tables or milling about the parking lot. We rushed for the sidewalk and looked up and down the street.
“There!” Dan pointed. I turned my head and blinked, seeing a man shining like a star a block away.
We took off running. The power gathered around the man started to shift and roll, twisting into a sinuous rope that rose like a cobra out of one of those snake charmer’s baskets. Up and up it went, into the sky. I’d never seen anything like it before, nor the sheer amount of magic coursing through the man. As we got closer, I got a better look at his face. He was older, in his fifties if I had to guess. I got the impression of Hispanic features, but I didn’t have time to take it all in. His expression was utterly blank, as if he were in some sort of trance, and the glowing whites of his eyes told me he was nearing his limit, magic-wise.
“Hey! Hello!” Dan snapped his fingers and waved a hand in front of the stranger’s face. “Snap out of it, buddy!”
That rope of power continued to snake its way upward, gaining in speed as it arced northwest. The glow around the witch began to dim as it went, but not because he was using less power, more like it was just… leaving.
“Shit, he’s gonna burn out! Do something, Dan!”
“What am I supposed to do?” He gave the man’s shoulder a shove to try and shake him out of whatever had gripped him.
“Make him stop! Bind him! There has to be something!”
“I can’t!” Dan said, a hint of panic creeping into his voice.
Pushing him out of my way, I reached out and grabbed the man’s face between my hands. “You have to listen to me!” I shouted at him, desperate for something, anything, to make it stop. My fingers began to tingle. “STOP!” I cried, knowing full well that this witch was about to burn out right in front of me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Then something happened. The tingling in my fingers spread up my hands, over my wrists and up my arms, until it seemed like my whole body was like one of those dead limbs waking from sleep, phantom pins pricking me everywhere. I screamed, but I didn’t let go. I felt his energy flowing into me, filling the space between those pricks with warmth until there was nothing left but warmth and light. The rope of power above us started to reverse its course, returning to the witch it came from… and through him to me. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped to the ground, slipping between my fingers.
With the contact broken, the magic started to drain away. Looking down, I could see it retreating down my fingers and forearms. My eyes were drawn to the ground, which was covered with a spiderweb of mystical energy, stretching outward a good fifteen feet. My feet were at its center.
Dan had retreated to stand at the edge of it as it expanded, having the good sense not to mess with whatever was going on or risk getting caught up in it. “What… the… fuck…” he said with his usual eloquence.
The rest of the power drained out of me, leaving me suddenly cold, the world much dimmer than it had been a moment ago. “I don’t— I don’t know. Now can you bind him?”
“No,” Dan said.
I stared at him in confusion. He moved closer, but cautiously.
“Why not? I know he’s strong, but…”
“I just can’t.” His shoulders slumped, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
A nagging suspicion tugged at the back of my mind, but I was too cold, frustrated, and confused to cope with it right then. I looked around. We’d drawn a few gawkers. Mostly witches, for obvious reasons. Mundies wouldn’t have had any clue what was going on.
“Can anyone bind this man? Please, for his own safety,” I implored, looking around me. Most just stared or turned around and walked hurriedly away, probably unnerved by what they’d witnessed. It was like those awful things you hear about big cities, where people put their heads down and keep walking rather than help someone being mugged, just… the small metropolis edition. It made me sick. Also, angry.
I thought I was going to have to get down on my knees and beg, but finally, someone stepped forward. A man of obvious Native American ancestry, tall and bronze-skinned with a narrow nose and strong jaw. He strode forward confidently and took a knee beside the fallen man. Stripping off a glove, he lay his hand across the man’s forehead. Power flared around him, and I watched as the spell was woven. It didn’t take long; he knew what he was doing.
“You should call 911,” the stranger said, meeting my eyes. His eyes were like warm, dark pools, drawing me in. “He may have hit his head when he fell.”
“Th-thank you,” I said.
He smiled, and something inside me twinged.
Behind me, Dan cleared his throat. The moment broken, I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Why don’t you make that phone call?” By the time I looked back at the stranger, he was turning to go. “Wait,” I called after him. “How can we reach you, to undo the binding?”
We exchanged names and numbers, after which I sat down in the snow to wait for the ambulance while Dan fumbled his way through the 911 call. I suspected he’d never made one before, and trying to give accurate information about your location in an unfamiliar city could be a challenge. As the adrenaline rush slowly faded, my hands started to shake. I tucked them under my arms while I watched Dan, frowning as I mulled over what had happened. And what hadn’t happened. Someone had some explaining to do.
Unfortunately, he was probably thinking the same thing about me.
Chapter 17
Dan made himself scarce before the cavalry arrived. I suggested we meet up at his hotel, but he’d pressed me until I gave him my address. That would probably come back to bite me, but I was too tired and freaked out to argue with him. Also, I really didn’t want Escobar to show up and find him there, even though being present for the attack gave him a strong alibi.
The ambulance arrived first, and I winced as soon as I saw the number on the back of it.
Andy gave me the side-eye but set to work checking out the witch. He was still out cold, which was probably for the best. It was bothersome, though. It’s never a good thing when someone loses consciousness. I’d done what I could before they arrived, making sure he was breathing and that no one moved him. It was unlikely he had a neck injury, but if he did, the wrong move could mean permanent paralysis. I certainly didn’t want to be held responsible for that.
By the time Escobar arrived, I was sitting on the curb, wrapped in a bright red patient blanket.
“Just can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I?” he said as he approached. “What happened?”
Relief flooded me as soon as I laid eyes on him, and I heaved a full-body sigh. Even though there was probably nothing he could do at that point, it was still a comfort having him there. Odd, perhaps, since just a couple of days ago he was a stranger.
After checking to make sure Andy and Michelle were out of earshot, I dove right in. “I was eating dinner down the street and felt a surge of magic. Really powerful magic. I ran outside and found that man”—I motioned toward the ambulance—“gathering a crap ton of magic.”
“A crap ton?” He arched a dark brow. “Is that the technical term for it?”
I smirked, feeling like my old self. However temporarily.
“Something like that. Anyway, I think we can rule out a homunculus. Whatever happened, it was initiated remotely. There’s no way a homunculus could have that kind of finesse. But it was definitely an attack designed to drain magic out of this witch. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Hell, I’ve never even heard of anything like it before. It was like someone took his magic, spun it into a rope, and yanked it up into the sky. It was headed kind of that way.” I pointed northeast.
Escobar glanced in the direction I motioned. “Okay, so what happened? Did he burn out?”
“No.” I looked away.
But he was a detective, so he noticed my hesitation. “What happened?” He sat beside me on the bench.
I was quiet for a long moment, chewing my lower lip, suddenly reluctant to continue. I didn’t know what to say about what had happened next, hadn’t even begun to process it. “I don’t know.”
“Did it just stop?”
“No.” I sighed and rubbed my temples. “I— I stopped it, but I don’t know how. I was trying to shake him out of the trance or whatever it was he was in, because I knew he was in trouble.” I looked at Escobar, studying his face by the light of the street lamp. His expression was guarded, difficult to read. “He was going to burn out. I knew it. But when I grabbed him, I just— I don’t know. I drained it all away.”
Escobar gave me a look that was somewhere between curious and skeptical.
“I’m not lying. That’s what happened. Somehow I managed to pull the magic leaving him into me, and ground it like a magic lightning rod. It went into the ground around us, and then he passed out, but… I swear, he’s still intact. I don’t know what I did, but I stopped it, Mike.” The last few words came out in almost a whisper. I’d never used his first name before, much less turned it into a nickname. But right then, for some reason, calling him Escobar just felt too formal. I was baring my soul, in a way. I didn’t know what had happened or what it meant. I’d never had any sort of manifestations before, no indications that I was anything but a largely mundane offshoot of a gifted family. A poor facsimile of an actual witch.