by Lisa Edmonds
“Whatever. I’m going upstairs.” I led Malcolm back up the steps to the main floor, where he braved the sizzle of the wards once more. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like it hurts. It just feels like I’m being pulled apart a little.”
I winced. “I’m not sure how much less uncomfortable I can make it without compromising the wards, but I’ll look into it.”
It was almost nine p.m. I threw a load of clothes into the washer, then made myself a quick dinner. As I was eating, I realized the message light on my phone was blinking. I’d missed a call from Natalie while I was doing laundry and had a voice mail.
“Hey, Alice.” Natalie sounded excited. “I think maybe I found something that might help us. It’s a folder of letters from a couple of years ago from a man named John West. In one of the letters, he refers to something called the Kasten.” She spelled it. “He thanks my grandmother for agreeing to keep it. I looked through the rest of the letters, but he never mentions it again. It sounds like he and my grandmother were both in something called a harnad?”
I went cold. A harnad was an alliance of blood mages who do magic in pairs or groups to increase their power. They were extremely dangerous and had the well-deserved reputation of being ruthless. Harnads had been known to even use lifeblood—the last blood drained from a dying person, which was extremely potent—for spells and the most deadly and powerful black wards and curses. To do so was a capital crime in all fifty states, but there had been at least a dozen documented cases of the ritual being performed in the past decade, and those were just the ones that had become public knowledge.
This had the potential to be very, very bad.
Natalie was still talking, oblivious to the bomb she’d just dropped. “Anyway, I’m putting these letters on the dining table for you to look at, and I’ll keep digging around. Have a good night!” Beep.
Malcolm and I looked at each other. “Shit,” he said.
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
*
I curled up on the couch with my laptop while Malcolm alternated between reading over my shoulder and floating around the house. I did a search for Kasten, but nothing came up that looked remotely useful, other than it was the German word for box or chest. I tried combining it with different search terms like object of power and focus, which were my best guesses about what it might be, but still got zilch.
After I put my clothes in the dryer, I searched for harnad and Kasten together, but all I got were news articles about harnads and websites denouncing blood magic. More than one website claimed there were at least two active harnads in the city, though not much was known about them. A local reporter believed they were responsible for a string of missing prostitutes, but the police were unconvinced.
I had no problem finding information about Betty’s friend, John West. He was a high-level fire mage who lived in the city. By all accounts, he was a respected businessman who still did frequent commercial work, despite being in his seventies. I found nothing about West being a blood mage, but that wasn’t surprising since blood magic was illegal.
Contacting West would be a highly dangerous proposition, since I had no desire to get myself on the radar of a member of a harnad. I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes.
“What are you going to do?” Malcolm wanted to know.
“Good freaking question,” I told him without opening my eyes. I briefly outlined what I’d found out about John West, the rumored local harnads, and the missing prostitutes. “Things just keep getting worse. This started out being about missing books. Now we’re talking about a harnad being involved.”
“If this Kasten doohickey belonged to the harnad, maybe they figured out who the mystery mage is and got that person to go in and get it for them,” Malcolm suggested.
I’d been thinking that myself. “You’re pretty good at this private investigator thing. Maybe you should be the PI and I should be the wisecracking assistant.”
“That would work, except your jokes suck,” Malcolm quipped.
I threw a pillow at him—they call them throw pillows, after all—and it went through him and landed over by the fireplace. “Do you think it’s worth asking that reporter about the local harnads?”
“At this point, I’m not sure. I still think our best bet is figuring out who the mystery mage is and following that lead to see where it takes us.”
I threw my hands up in aggravation. “Except we’re out of suspects! It has to be one of Betty’s children or siblings, but we’ve eliminated them all. It makes no damn sense.”
“Okay, well, that’s the thing. It has to be one of them, so either someone is capable of disguising their magic, or there’s another family member we don’t know about.”
I rubbed my forehead. “If one of them is hiding their magic and/or disguising their energy signature, we’ll need a spell that can detect a masking spell like the one we just put on you.”
“I can do that, no problem.”
“Awesome. Then all I’ll have to do is sneak up to each of them and see if the spell triggers.” I wrinkled my nose.
“Actually, I can do that easier than you,” Malcolm pointed out. “I’m invisible. You can just wait in the car.”
I could get used to this ghost assistant thing. “That sounds like an excellent plan, if you can design a spell that won’t be triggered by the masking spell that’s on you.”
Malcolm gave me an insulted look. “I’m pretty sure I can do that.”
“Figuring out if there’s another sibling that Natalie isn’t aware of might take a bit more legwork. I’m wondering if she could call Betty’s lawyer tomorrow and find out.”
“That’s a thought. I’ll work on the detection spell tonight and have it for you in the morning.”
I glanced at the clock and was surprised to see it was almost midnight. “Wow. I really lost track of time. I’d better hit the hay.” I hesitated, realizing I’d never “let” Malcolm out of the earring overnight. “Do you…need anything?” I asked awkwardly.
“Like what, my blankie and a bedtime story?”
I made a face at him. “Jerk.”
Malcolm grinned. “No, I’m good. I’ll work on the spell and maybe experiment with going out and about.”
“Until we have a spell that can jump you back to me or into the earring, I don’t know how comfortable I am with you going out on your own.”
He scowled. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“That’s not how I meant it. Your masking spell isn’t foolproof. We can’t have anyone finding out who and what you are.”
Malcolm nailed me with a hard stare. “You mean the way you can’t have anyone finding out who and what you are?”
We eyeballed one another like two gunfighters sizing each other up in the middle of a dusty street. If a tumbleweed blew through my living room, we’d be all set.
“You can’t go to a hospital, you can’t let anyone get ahold of your blood, you’ve got multiple layers of masking spells, you don’t want to ask around for a mentor for Natalie because you don’t want to attract the attention of the local cabals. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that you’re hiding. I’m dead, not stupid.”
I kept silent.
Malcolm literally buzzed with anger, his fury intensifying by the second. “You know pretty much my whole life story, but apparently you don’t trust me enough to even tell me what you’re hiding from.”
“No, I don’t, not yet, and that’s going to have to be the way it is for now, because I don’t trust anyone with that information. It’s not just you,” I added when Malcolm started to get huffy. “I haven’t told anyone about my past, and that isn’t likely to change anytime soon. I value you, and I want you to be safe, which is why I’d like you to have a bolt-hole spell to get you back to the earring in case of an emergency.”
I got up and headed for the stairs. “So be pissy if you want. Go out if you want; I’m not going to st
op you. The house wards will let you pass. Just be careful.”
I was almost halfway up the stairs when Malcolm finally spoke. “I’ll make the bolt-hole spell before I go out.” He still sounded angry, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that.
I paused. “Thanks. Have a good night.”
“You too.”
I went upstairs and shut my bedroom door. It took a long time for me to fall asleep.
Chapter 18
When my alarm went off Monday morning at seven thirty, I’d been lying awake in bed for almost an hour. What little sleep I’d managed to get had been plagued by nightmares about blood mages and faceless, dark figures chanting around an altar and an object I couldn’t see. My restless brain bounced from one topic to the next: Natalie, Malcolm, the mystery mage, Betty, harnads, John West, the Kasten, and even Charles and Sean. The worst part was, they were all big question marks.
Since I already had my phone in my hand, I pulled up Natalie’s number and called her before I realized it might be too early.
She picked up on the third ring. “Hi, Alice!”
I was relieved that she sounded perfectly awake. “Morning, Natalie. Sorry I’m calling so early.”
“Nah, I was up. Did you get my message last night? Did any of that make sense?”
“Some of it,” I hedged. “Not sure what the Kasten is—I’m still looking to that. A harnad is the name for a group of blood mages.”
A very long pause.
“Natalie?”
For the first time since I’d met her, Natalie swore. “Are you saying my grandmother was a blood mage?”
“It looks that way,” I admitted. “I’d really like to look at those letters.”
“I’ve got them here. You can come look at them anytime. God.” I wasn’t sure if she was swearing or if it was a prayer. “I thought I couldn’t be shocked by this anymore, but I was wrong. Do you think my grandmother killed people?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to be very careful. Harnads are dangerous. Don’t talk to anyone about this.”
She whimpered.
“I was wondering if you could do something for me,” I said.
“What do you need?”
I explained that Malcolm and I were going to see if any of her aunts or uncle were hiding their magical abilities. “In the meantime, you mentioned you were still in touch with your grandmother’s attorney.”
“Yes. He’s helping me fight my aunt in court.”
“Could you call him and ask if Betty had any other siblings or children besides the ones we know about?”
Another long pause. “If my mother had any other brothers or sisters—even half brothers or half sisters—I’d think she would have told me,” Natalie said finally.
“Unless she didn’t know. Maybe there was a black sheep in the family.”
Natalie snorted. “At this point, anything is possible. Sure, I’ll call him and ask. I’m sure the answer is no, but we might as well check.”
“Thanks. Let me know what you find out. I’ll keep you posted on our end.”
We made plans to touch base in the afternoon and said good-bye. I rolled out of bed and headed for my bathroom to shower and brush my teeth.
When I came out of the bathroom, Malcolm was in my room.
I shrieked, jumped, and almost lost my towel. “Damn it, Malcolm, what the hell? What if I’d walked out of my bathroom naked?”
He whirled around to face the other way. “Sorry! Sorry! Shit.”
“We need to have some ground rules about my bedroom.” I went into the bathroom, put on my bathrobe, and came back out. “Okay, I’m decent.”
Malcolm turned around. “Seriously, sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. What’s up?”
“Couple of things. I’ve got the masking-spell detector ready to go. I made the bolt-hole spell for your earring, but I need to test it.”
“Awesome! How—”
Malcolm vanished.
I jerked. “What the hell? Oh.” I went over to the nightstand and picked up my earrings. One of them buzzed with energy. “Release.”
Malcolm popped into my room, looking quite pleased with himself.
“Way to go. Any idea what its range might be?”
“That I’m not sure of,” Malcolm said. “In theory, range shouldn’t matter since this is metaphysical, but I would like to do more testing in incremental distances before I rely on it to jump me across town.”
I felt a hell of a lot better about the situation now Malcolm was able to jump into the earring in case of an emergency.
“What about a spell I could use to get out of the earring, instead of needing you to let me out?” he asked.
I frowned. “That is going to be more of a challenge. The earring is a heavy-duty containment spell designed from the ground up to keep its contents in and only respond to my commands. I’ll have to mess with it. It’s possible, I think, but it’s going to take some time.”
I went to my closet to find clothes. “I asked Natalie to call the lawyer to find out if she’s got any other relatives we don’t know about. She’s not very happy about the thought of her grandmother being in a harnad.” I grabbed a blue plaid shirt and a pair of jeans and emerged from the closet.
Malcolm snorted. “I can’t say I blame her. Imagine if your grandmother was in a harnad.”
My grandmother founded three harnads, but that was neither here nor there. “I did tell her not to talk to anyone about it, which I would think would go without saying, but better to be safe than sorry. Now shoo so I can get dressed.”
Malcolm went through the door into the hall. I put on my clothes, then brushed out my hair and pulled it into a ponytail before doing my makeup and putting on my jewelry.
Once I had my boots on, I opened the bedroom door and Malcolm was waiting in the hall. “You ready to go solve this thing?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” I said. “Just as soon as I get some coffee.”
*
I figured we’d start with Elise and work our way backward up the suspect list. I hit a fast-food drive-thru for a breakfast sandwich and gigantic cup of dark roast.
“How’s your cholesterol?” Malcolm’s disembodied voice was sardonic.
I took a big bite of my sandwich. “No idea. Probably fine, though,” I said through a mouthful of food.
“You are a classy woman.”
“Shut up.”
By the time we got to Elise’s neighborhood, I’d finished off the sandwich and most of the coffee. I rolled past Elise’s house and told Malcolm to meet me around the corner.
“Roger that,” Malcolm said, and I felt his energy leave the car.
I cruised down the street, turned the corner, and pulled over to the curb. I took my phone out and pretended to be in the middle of an animated conversation, as if I’d just stopped to make a call. Several morning dog-walkers and joggers passed by my car, saw me on the phone, and moved on without paying me much attention.
It was nearly ten minutes later by the time I felt Malcolm’s energy in the car. I’d started to get worried around the six-minute mark. “Boo,” Malcolm said.
I put my phone in my lap. “Very funny. What took so long?”
He snorted, which was a weird sound to hear from an invisible ghost. “‘Gosh, Malcolm, it’s pretty cool you can detect masking spells and you can sneak up on people without them knowing since you’re invisible and whatnot, but gee whiz, can’t you work faster?’”
“Was that sarcasm? I couldn’t tell.”
“Yes, that was sarcasm.”
“Yeah, so was that. So what took so long?”
There was a pause, during which I tried to imagine what expression was on Malcolm’s face. “I had to do some ‘tuning’ before I could get it to work,” he said finally, sounding aggravated. “But I’m 99.9 percent certain Elise is exactly what she seems: a nonmagical human. She’s not hiding anything. Well, except maybe alcoholism. She was drinking wine.”
I glanced at the clock on my dashboard. “At nine a.m.?”
“Yup. Red wine. In a coffee mug.”
“Damn.” I couldn’t decide whether to be amused, disapproving, or impressed. “Well, that’s one we can cross off the list, again.” I pulled away from the curb.
“Who’s next on the list?”
“Deborah Mackey.”
“Sweet.”
*
Three hours later, I was parked just down the street from Helen Matson’s house in Hope, crushing candy on my phone, when Malcolm returned to the car. “You won’t believe this, but it was negative too.”
I shut the game off and hit the steering wheel with the heel of my hand. “This is nuts. You and I both think that energy signature on the library wards belongs to a child or sibling of Betty Morrison, but you’re telling me your spell is not picking up masking spells on any of them?”
“Yep. We’ve eliminated Elise, Deborah, Kathy, and Peter, and even Robert and Helen.”
“And you’re sure it works?”
Malcolm sighed. “Yes, I’m sure. It picked mine up before I tuned it out. It’s picking yours up.”
“Then what the hell?”
“Maybe we should call Natalie and see what the lawyer told her.”
“Good thinking.” I called her cell. There was no answer, so I left a message to call me.
“What now?” Malcolm asked.
I sighed. “I guess let’s go back home. I want to keep looking for info on this Kasten and try to figure out what the hell it is. If nothing else pans out, I might try to track down John West or call that journalist about the local harnads.”
*
By the time we got back to my house, it was almost two and I was hungry. Malcolm went down to the basement to work on spells. I started to pull a small pizza out of the freezer, but I thought about my cholesterol and decided to make a salad instead. I grabbed a diet soda and carried my lunch downstairs.
I set out my lunch at the table in the library area and pulled a couple of books from the shelves. Malcolm was using my circles in the workspace. It looked like he was trying to set up additional bolt-hole spells that could jump him to different crystals. Not a bad idea; we could leave one here and another at the office in case of emergencies.