“Hey,” Cham said as he re-entered the morgue from the gym.
“Hi. I’m surprised the pin survived at all,” Annie said and placed the bag back on the table. “I heard there’s news. You know what this is?” she asked Cham, who was leading the collection and investigation of the explosion.
“Thankfully we have Mrs. Cuttlebrink and Emerson Donaldson on our team. You won’t believe what they’ve discovered.” He wiped his gloved hand against the table and picked up a small amount of the powder. “This is an airborne poison called chrysaloxide. It’s a byproduct of overheated crystals.”
“Really? I didn’t know the crystals did that.” She glanced around the room. “Where are Emerson and Mrs. Cuttlebrink working?”
“Fifth floor education.” Cham said. “There’s more. This poison, when inhaled, attaches to the bronchial tubes, crystalizing the liquid in the lungs. Blocking the passageways.”
Annie’s stomach lurched. “That would kill someone by… suffocating?” She noticed his face had grown pale under his mask.
“Not exactly. They think the crystals melt and turn back to liquid. They’d actually die by drowning,” Cham said.
Marielle attempted to take down the entire Wizard Hall.
Annie assumed Marielle thought the pin would be tested in the Wizard Guard department. Hundreds of people would have been affected by the explosion if they had done so.
“I feel sick,” Annie said. “How did she think she’d get away with destroying the entire Wizard Hall?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. Law will take care of that. Mrs. Cuttlebrink told the hospital to expect possible pneumonia symptoms. So far, no one has complained of respiratory issues.” Cham’s voice was shaky.
“How did they find this?” Annie asked.
“Emerson found a link to an ancient sect in Greece. They used it often.”
“So it’s been around. Is there an antidote?”
“Yeah. The hospital was able to create the antidote. They’re standing ready should anyone come in with breathing issues. The notice is going out to all Wizard Hall employees now. The funny thing is, we could’ve used a potion master to make the potion,” he said.
“Well, good thing you have Gibbs, then,” Annie joked.
“I’d rather have you.”
“I wish…” Annie felt the phone buzz again. “It doesn’t matter. Keep me posted. My phone is ringing again. I need to go.” She held up her hands, which were covered in thick gloves.
“You go. I’ll talk to you later.” He waved as Annie headed back out of Wizard Hall.
*
After stripping off the garb in the second dressing room, she tossed the protective gear in the incinerator tube leading to the fire beneath her feet. The room led to a shower-like contraption that blew off any particles that might still be covering her. The strong gust of air blew against her clothes and her skin; her hair rose up above her head. After the whirling above her stopped, a soft mist of the antidote spell covered her.
She turned as instructed.
When the machine finished, a green light beeped on and the door opened. Annie had never felt so free after leaving Wizard Hall. She glanced at her phone and headed back to the education building.
She found Graham watching over Bucky’s shoulder. Both stared at the screen, reading a police file.
“What’s that?” Annie asked as she looked at a crime scene photo of a victim. There were no vampire tracks on the neck, no bruises, defensive marks, no cause of death.
Bucky typed again. “This is Gwyneth Van Alton.” He scrolled through the file. “Huh… Gwyneth Van Alton, Beauchamp. Age fifty-four. And guess who her daughter is?”
“Where did you find this?” Annie asked.
“I cross-referenced the list I had given you with recent deaths in France. I didn’t make the connection as first; she was listed as a Van Alton. On my second review, I found her married name.”
“It’s not a vampire death. Do they have suspects, cause of death?” Annie asked as she moved closer to read the file on the screen.
Bucky pulled up the autopsy report. “According to this, it was an accidental drowning. She had too much alcohol in her system and fell asleep in the bathtub.” Bucky said.
“Oh, crap.” Annie stood up and ran a hand through her knotted hair.
“Annie. What is it?” Graham asked.
“That’s not what happened.” Annie explained the mist and the film in Wizard Hall and what they believed it did.
Bucky cleared out of the screen he was in and pulled up the autopsy report. “Here. It’s definitely drowning. At least, that was the result of the autopsy.”
“When did Gwyneth die?” Annie asked.
Bucky searched the file again and found the date of death. “Four months ago.”
“I’m guessing she tested this ancient poison on her mother and made sure it worked as a backup in case she was discovered,” Annie said.
“And there you came, so close to discovering her. She needed to end us. She knew when we got there we’d figure it out,” Graham said.
“Get all of this evidence to Law. They’re just down the hall. We need to add this to the timeline that they use to create the case against Marielle,” Annie said.
For the first time in several hours, Annie plopped herself in one of the chairs and placed her head on the table.
Her mind raced through evidence, going backwards through the timeline. It had all started when Sturtagaard sent her the newspaper article.
Sturtagaard!
If he had wanted to come back to the United States, he could have. It was never part of the agreement they made with him when they let him out of Tartarus Prison. They had just let him go; the only caveat was that he had to have the atomie bean placed in his shoulder.
He made such a big deal out of helping us!
She bolted upright and summoned the atomie bean she carried in her field pack. With a map of the United States, Annie scried for the vampire.
“Annie. Who are you looking for?” Graham asked, watching her scry.
“Why? Why did Sturtagaard help us? He didn’t have to in order to come back here. It was never part of the agreement. He could have just come back here, started business, staked himself. It didn’t matter. He made a point of sending that article. That ass doesn’t do anything without a reason.” Her voice rose several octaves the angrier she became. But then, it could have been the lack of sleep catching up with her.
“He’s involved somehow and is trying to hide it?” Bucky surmised.
The crystal dropped over Chicago. A sinking feeling grew in her stomach as she unfurled a detailed map of Chicago only and scried again for the vampire. As she expected, he had gone somewhere familiar, somewhere she had found him before: the abandoned warehouse where he had killed the streetwalker, the same location Sturtagaard first met Jordan Wellington.
“Need me for anything else?” Annie asked as she gathered her items and shoved them in her field pack.
“No. We’re good. We’ll let you know if we need you,” Bucky said.
“I have to go and stake a vampire!” Annie said.
“Take backup!” shouted Graham.
“Yes, Dad!”
*
Annie explained a theory to Spencer. He raised his eyebrows at hearing her impulsive thoughts
“That vampire needs a good staking,” Spencer said.
“He’s a loose end. I just want him to tell me what his role was. If it’s big enough, maybe it will be enough to dissolve the proclamation and finally allow us to stake him.”
“Lead the way,” Spencer said.
Annie landed them in a familiar alley beside the abandoned warehouse. Though it was the middle of the day during traditional business hours, the street was empty. Even the bar located at the end of the street was now abandoned, its once-festive sign hanging askew.
Annie poked her head around the wall. Seeing no one on the street this warm spring day, the two partners strolled t
o the sidewalk and headed for the warehouse.
As he had done previously, Sturtagaard had hacked through the thick chain holding the doors together; the discarded chain lay on the ground. He wasn’t trying to hide from her—or, for that matter, anyone else. In turn, Annie didn’t hide from him as she pulled the creaky doors open and entered the warehouse.
The last time Annie had been here, boxes, used junk, and old machine parts had cluttered the floor. She’d had to climb a mountain of junk to reach the back of the warehouse. Today, the space was open. The pile of junk had been removed. She had a clear view of the living space in the back of the room, including the kitchenette against the far wall. Sturtagaard stood over the kitchen sink, sucking blood from a plastic bag.
Annie cleared her throat.
“I wondered when you’d show up,” he said and tossed the bag in the sink.
“Nice digs,” she said and stepped forward with a stake in her hand.
Just in case.
“It’s safe. No one comes here.” Sturtagaard shrugged. “Would you care to sit? I’d offer you food but, well…”
“No. No, thanks. I just have a question for you. What deal did you have with Marielle Beauchamp?”
Sturtagaard smirked. “Took you long enough to figure it out.” The vampire walked from the sink and began pacing with his hands behind his back. His smile never left his face, as if the memory was a good one.
“She knows vampires like you know vampires. She sought me out—well, not me exactly. She sought out a vampire who might know things.”
“And you know things. Even in Europe?” Annie jeered.
Sturtagaard returned her scowl. “Yes. I do.”
Annie smirked while Spencer bit his tongue. “Fine. You know stuff. She finds you five or six months ago. What did she want?”
“It wasn’t what you’d think. Though I must admit, when she threatened the usual Wizard Guard threats, I was intrigued. She simply wanted a protection amulet. Asked me to go to the Black Market. She even gave me the name of the vendor she wanted me to use.”
Annie couldn’t hold back the laughter. It came on so strongly, she had difficulty breathing.
Six months ago, the Black Market still existed.
“Stop laughing!” Sturtagaard shouted. It made Annie laugh harder. Spencer realizing what she did, soon joined her.
“Sturtagaard. You moron. You’re nothing but an errand boy. And yet you talk big. What the hell is your problem?” Spencer asked.
“She paid well. It was a very powerful amulet.” He strolled along the kitchenette.
Annie scrolled through her phone. “This one?” He glared at the phone screen. “Yeah. That’s the one.”
“She didn’t want to be seen in the Black Market. She didn’t want her behavior, her movements to be noted. She could get away with contacting you—we always do—looking for information. But the market. That’s something different,” Annie said with a satisfied smile on her face.
“Did she say what she needed it for?” Spencer interjected.
“No. And that bitch didn’t pay me the full amount. I went to find her, and that’s when I saw her with the brat princess. I thought I’d use that to my advantage. Blackmail her into getting things. But that newspaper article, that changed things. It could ruin everything.”
“So you thought to send it to me. Let me clean it up. Gee, thanks, Sturtagaard.”
“And you came to me because you couldn’t do it yourself. Why’s that, girl?”
Annie flipped the stake in her hand. The slap, as expected, made Sturtagaard jump.
“Okay, fine, you’re the most smartest, bestest wizard guard in the world.” Sturtagaard sneered before turning slightly more serious. “Actually, and I will kick myself for saying this, you are the best. They’re dolts overseas.”
Annie and Spencer exchanged glances.
“What did she do with the amulet?” Sturtagaard asked, as he observed the Wizard Guard partners.
“Not important. We just wanted to verify that this was your deal and how deep you were in the murders. I was so looking forward to finally staking you,” she said.
“I told you, girl, it’s not time,” he said. He didn’t sound like he was cajoling or jeering, just stating the fact.
“What the hell does that mean?” she asked.
“When it’s time, you’ll know.”
Spencer gently tugged Annie’s sleeve and led her from the warehouse, leaving the vampire staring after them.
*
“You sure, Graham?” Annie asked. She paced the makeshift cubicle, which was stuffed with chairs and other equipment. Her knees were bruised from bumping into the stuff scattered about. She stifled a cry and sat in the empty chair beside Graham instead.
“Yes. October is the first memory modification. So Sturtagaard sold her the amulet?”
“Damn asshole vampire. How he winds up in so many cases just makes me want to stake his ass. What agreement does he have with the council?” she asked.
“Not sure. Executive council hasn’t shared in millennium,” he answered.
“It doesn’t much matter now. He probably just handed over Amelie because he was bored,” Annie said.
“Yeah, well, Sturtagaard always has some reason for doing what he does.” Graham chuckled.
“Do you think the Wizard Council will vote to proceed with the tribunal?” Graham asked.
“I think they will. There’s too much evidence. I think that’s the only agenda item with the Wizard Council tonight.” Annie, still anxious, played with a loose thread on her sweater. She sighed. “And the rest of the memory modification spells. Do they line up with the murders?” Annie asked.
Graham handed her the timeline, which showed three lines across the paper. One was green, one was red. The top line consisted of the dates all of the vampire victims died. The line below gave the date the memory modification spells were conducted.
“Marielle was consistent. The day after the murders, she performed the spell,” Annie noted. “What are these purple dates?” she asked, pointing at the third line.
“Those are the ones presumably performed by other members of the French Wizard Guard. Bucky is reviewing the security tapes for those just to verify the dates. They have everything on tape—which, by the way, no one seemed to monitor,” Graham said.
“Good thing for us,” Annie said and slipped the timeline back to him. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll keep you posted if anything changes,” Graham said as he stood to leave.
Chapter 37
With Wizard Hall uninhabitable, the Wizard Council meeting was moved to a large auditorium on the fourth floor of the education building, which was generally used for college lectures.
Annie cast her spell into the makeshift security box, entered through the security doors, and found her place on the stage at the head of the room.
Here the lights were turned on full brightness, not set up for the protocols of Wizard Council.
Or Ryan wants everyone to take responsibility for their vote like no other vote before this, Annie thought to herself as she stood at the podium under the hot lights. She blinked rapidly to keep her eyes moist as she watched the seats fill as she held on to the podium with wet hands.
Milo sweat more profusely than she did. He wiped his brow with shaky hands and stared out into the crowd that watched them intently.
An additional podium was added to the floor, and Cham took his turn at the front of the crowd. For only his second-ever Wizard Council meeting, his outer appearance was one of cool, calm confidence. Still, Annie knew him well enough to know he was nervous. He kept rubbing the wool of his council cloak; his thumb was red from chafing.
In front of them, a long table was covered in a black, floor-length tablecloth. File folders lay across the table, containing evidence, pictures, emails. Beside the piles of growing evidence lay a thick tome, containing the entire case against Marielle Beauchamp and Armand Lefebvre
. Copies of all documents, photos, pictures from the security cameras, and all the rest of the evidence compiled in the case was contained in the leather-bound book. The official scrolls, the grievances against the Marielle Beauchamp and Armand Lefebvre, and the final complaint against the French Wizard Guard and Council for the attack against the United States Wizard Hall lay under the harsh light.
Kathy Connelly, Samantha Chamsky, and James MacIntosh sat at the table guarding the documents.
Will they declare war on France? Or listen to reason?
When a Wizard Council member took their seat, they sent a spell to a crystal at their temporary spot. Their magical trace registered into a book beside Ryan, alerting him that everyone was seated and ready to begin. When he was certain, Ryan banged the gavel against the table.
“Please review the agenda for tonight. There you will find the case against two wizard guards in the French Wizard Council. First complaint,” Milo began. Though he was shaky, sweaty, and held tightly to the podium to steady himself, he spoke with conviction, asserting the American Wizard Guard’s case against Marielle Beauchamp and Armand Lefebvre.
When he had finished with the first complaint, he explained the second: the case against the French Wizard Council, who had knowingly used the memory modification on their own people on more than one occasion.
Though it had been explained once before, the idea of going before the international tribunal caused a din to erupt in the hall.
“People, please,” Milo shouted.
The room buzzed with this revelation. They all knew the Wizard Guard, VAU, and Telecommunications had the proof or they wouldn’t be here. The idea that a governing body could control their subjects so easily was a concern to all of them.
“How did they do that?” asked a wizard Annie didn’t recognize.
“See the evidence list,” Annie advised. “It’s the pins, the same pin that was sent here with the magic that blew apart the lab. One is issued to every employee at the French Wizard Hall, and they use a metal rod in their ceiling to send the memory modification spell up through the Eiffel Tower. The spell is spread through that.”
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