by brett hicks
Chapter: 2
Jaden led us down the left-hand side of the large complex to a long row of small shotgun style homes. She did not look back, nor did she speak again. Frustration bubbled up inside me, but I put a lid on it for now. She was just acting on her own convictions; I knew that yet it still seemed to hurt to be treated like a cancer cell.
Jon appeared unaffected by her brash words, but I detected trace flickers in his anger every time she insulted me. He was amazing at hiding his emotions for a sup, much less for a human. There would be a lot less prego shifters if they had his level of control. His temperament made him the perfect cop, because he would never lose himself on the job. Hopefully I would never snap on the job either, but it was far more likely than it happens to Jon.
We approached one particular shotgun style home, it was hunter green and had dark brown shutters attached. The door was open and the first signs of decay were leaking through the door. The scent was all wrong, even from this distance; I could smell something that was missing in the stench of death. My eyes went wide for a split second and Jon must have seen, because he stopped walking.
“Kayla, what is it?” I pulled the mask of composure back over my face as well as all my body language. Shrugging, I said, “Just smells wrong, it’s like part of the scent has been stripped away from the body.”
Jon looked disconcerted with this declaration, he was not easily rattled, but my telling him something stripped scent of the body seemed to cross some invisible line with him.
“Do you know what is missing exactly?” I shook my head and said, “No, my nose just registers gaps in the scent, like part of it was taken away.”
“How about you two get inside and debate more than the missing scent, then?” Jaden’s green eyes glowed in annoyance and she walked into the small shotgun home. Growling like a dog, I followed her in and pushed subtle levels of hostility in her direction. She was going to lose an appendage if she kept pushing me.
We walked into the bedroom and I could clearly smell the grave musk wafting from the room. My eyes bled sliver and slit. I breathed in the scent deeply and I recognized it from somewhere, but it was not any place I could recall off the top of my head. I had either smelt this scent in passing before, or I had met this vamp before.
A wrinkled up husk of a young witch lay peacefully on the bed, as if she was taking a nap. She showed no signs of knowing what had happened to her and she had no marks on her. Putting on a pair of latex gloves, I stepped over to the bed and gently turned her neck, checking for bite marks, but none were present.
Glamor was wafting from the body like a designer perfume and it reeked. Whoever had done this glamour had not intended it to be subtle. They had hit her with a hammer effect of vampiric magic. She had no sign of resistance and she had clearly stayed asleep during the whole experience. Whoever murdered her had used magic, but it was nothing I recognized.
My silver eyes could see translucent fog on and near the body. Magic always had a color, but this was colorless, truly disconcerting. Finally, I could see why the damn witches called us in now.
“What do you see, child?” I heard the deep feminine voice of Joan McQueen in the doorway now. I did not bother to turn around and look at my grandmother. I just answered the question blandly.
“I see a few things. First, the scent is missing part of its natural odor. Second, you can smell and see glamour wafting up thick like she was hit with a tidal wave of it. Third, I see magic around the body and on it, but it has no color.”
I saw a long streak of yellow hair flow past my face. Joan was studying the body, leaning in front of me and now cursing.
“How the hell did I miss this?” I clamped down on the snarky response I wanted to fire at her. She finally turned and looked at me with a baffled look and said, “You can see it clearly from there? I could barely see anything at all studying it right in my face.”
Shrugging, I said, “Mom says that my sight is far more sensitive than any other witch. She often misses some of the things I can clearly see too. We think my eyes break down the magical particles and detect much finer grain of magic trace residue. I see clear magic residue all over this body and back a few feet from the body. My guess is, this is where the vampire was standing.”
I pointed to the spot next to me where the clear particles stopped and Joan closely studied the whole area and she must have seen some of it, because she nodded in confirmation of my deduction about this crime.
“Tell me, what magic type has no color signature? My mother is very thorough, and she did not have any such listing.”
Joan’s ocean blue eyes flickered with a heat of some heightened emotional state, and then she was calm again. She locked eyes with me for a few more seconds and then she spoke.
“Petite, there is no magical type that has ever been without some trace of color. Your mother is a brilliant witch and you’re right. She would have such a thing indexed.”
I pulled my iPhone free and thumbed my mother’s speed dial digit. She answered on the second ring.
“Hello, Kayla, what’s up?” She sounded confused, since she knew I was working, I am always working these days.
“Mom, I need you to check out an unknown magic signature, I have it on good authority that this type should not exist.”
“Kayla how can you have anything on good authority if I am not there to give the authority, but you have my interest peaked, where do I need to go?” She sounded equal parts smug and giddy now. My mom is the most brilliant living witch, she is as strong as my grandma, but she is many times more creative with spell crafting.
“Well… you are not going to like it, but I need you to come to the coven. I am looking at a dead body inside the McQueen coven.”
There was a pause for fifteen seconds and I was about to check if she was still on the line when, “Fine, but I am charging that old toad double my usual rate.”
Joan’s eyes glowed deep blue in annoyance, she has supernatural senses, so she could hear this whole exchange. My mom knew that, but she did not back off of her one bit. She is still pissed about my grandmother binding my powers and hexing me to death on my eighteenth birthday. That spell was broken about a week before my birthday, so I did not die obviously.
“Well get your genius butt down here and look at this weird ass magic signature. I doubt anyone else is going to crack this spell, even Joan struggled to see the ripples in the pattern.”
She snorted and said, “The old bat is losing her sight in her old age that is rich!” I could hear Joan cursing like a sailor under her breath. I had better hearing than both of them. I gave Joan a sheepish smile and said, “She is on her way, so let’s clear out and preserve the scene until she gets here.”
Joan was about to retort, but Jon cut her off and began to compliment her hair. She looked at him with unveiled skepticism and annoyance. Her right hand was twitching now, most witches will begin to fiddle with their dominant hand when they feel threatened or extremely violent.
“Ok mom, see you when you get down here. Just try to behave a little for me?”
“I am perfectly capable of behaving myself Kayla!” Yet she sounded like an annoyed teenager over the phone right now. I said nothing about that observation and just agreed with her.
“See you in a few then… bye.”
Sliding my phone back into my jeans, I came to a stop next to Jon and swiped his large cup of coffee. Jaden had given him a large cup of espresso from The Witch’s Brew. It is the coven ran coffee joint inside the silver fenced land. The little suck up gave him coffee and not me! I sniffed it before I turned it up and gulped down about half the contents. It was a strong espresso with just a hint of sugar and cream.
Jon raised one eyebrow and said, “You know that is stealing don’t you?”
I gave him a sassy look and raised my brow and said, “That was a rhetorical question, right?” He took the coffee cup back and turned it up. Jaden was glaring at us now. She seemed to think she was going to get in Jo
n’s pants. I was not about to jump in the sack with him right this minute, but her advances were pissing me off.
“How long until your mom is down here?” I shrugged and said, “Give her fifteen minutes, she loves to gloat. She will be here in record time, so she can harass Joan.”
Jon’s eyes gleamed with a knowing look at them, but he said nothing. He was not exactly Joan’s biggest fan either, since he did not exactly like attempted murderer. He even offered to try to file charges of attempted murder by magical means. It was the sweetest thing a man has ever done for me, but she was a necessary evil. The covens ran well with her around and there is no telling what kind of power vacuum her death or imprisonment would leave.
“Did you really have to call that know it all down here? We could manage this fine without her show boating all over this damn crime scene.”
Joan’s eye was twitching and it was causing the scar on the side of her face to move now. She was held captive by the only other known vampire/ witch hybrids. She had scars deep enough that that was still with her six hundred years later. Her scar was not really freakish or scary either. It made her look like some kind of hot young female general. You would almost expect her to pull out a cigar and begin to inspect her troops.
Joan was exactly the same height and build as me, all was the same, except for the scar on her cheek and her blue eyes. Mom and I had grey eyes from our father’s side of the family. All three of us could pass for triplets in a line up, but mom looked a little different than me, her jaw line a little wider and she was a few inches taller. Joan on the other hand was like my blue eyed clone, or I was her clone.
“Joan, you know damn well that we could use her knowledge on this murder. You do want this solved as quickly as possible right?”
She nodded and I continued, “Look, I am putting aside my differences and doing my job. It is not like you actually banished you daughter and attempted to murder your granddaughter or anything! You will just have to cope with some level of discomfort and get the hell over yourself!”
The other witches had all stopped and were staring slack jaw at me now. Jadenstomped up and said, “How dare you…” She was cut off with a wave of Joan’s hand and Joan said, “Fine, you might have a point somewhere in that rant. Just tell your mother to behave so we can all get this over with.”
I locked my eyes on hers and we stared at each other for a very pregnant moment.
“I already told her to behave, I will remind her, but I cannot help the fact that she is doing a favor for someone she feels threatened by. Hell, I would feel threatened too, if your powers could still faze me.”
Joan’s jaw tightened, message received, she knew that since I turned eighteen, I am almost immune to her now. She would have to catch me off guard to truly hit me with a spell now, her or any other magic user. I do not make a practice of being unguarded, unless I am safely tucked behind my own defensive wards. Sally and I have the best magical defense system in the whole city. We have tested it against everything just this side of a full blown nuclear attack.
Jaden’s eyes glowed lowly and water suddenly encased me on all sides—a watery tomb of sorts. I flicked out my witch vein of magic powers and the cold snap in temperature shattered the tomb to chunks of ice. The chunks rained down around our feet and the cold expanded outward from me—threatening to remove all trace of warmth of the whole house.
Joan stood in silence and just watched patiently—as though she was not about to be frozen to death. Jaden staggered back a few steps before her feet were flash frozen to the moist floor.
“I think you have made your point honey.” The voice of a very amused mother warmed my frozen heart back up and broke the spell’s hold on my emotions. In all truth, I had lost control, if only for a moment. I was new to my powers and lacked the time and practice of others my age, but I made up for both with raw power.
Joan turned and drank in the sight of her own daughter in silence and my mom strode forward and wrapped me in her arms. I would have protested to being hugged in public now that I was an adult, but I had truly missed my mom. We had not had a lot of time together since I joined the police academy.
“Jennifer, it is good to see you in good health.” Joan said, though she looked like my twin, she shown the worried look on her twentyish year old face of a frightened mother. She could not hide the warmth from her eyes for my mom— or her pride as a mother in whom her daughter was.
“Mom, you look disturbingly generous for a change.” Jenny McQueen folks, never subtle, nor is she ever off the mark. Jaden was about to get offended again when Joan laughed girlishly and clutched her stomach.
“Forgive me, dear, but it has been far too long since anyone spoke their mind around me so.”
“You mean besides your granddaughter behind you?”
“Oui, she does have her mother’s flair for the dramatic and the bluntness of her word likened to a sledge hammer. She reminds me of my attempts to keep you reigned in back in a less sexually equal time period.”
My mom squirmed just a bit at the mention of her past. Clearly she did not like me hearing about her youth. Jon stood ever patiently and let the drama unfold before him in utter silence, but he was ever studying the supernatural beings around him. One would be a fool to assume that he was as laid back as he appeared. Jon just had one of the best poker faces I had ever seen.
“Ladies, might we get back to unraveling this supernatural case?” He finally interrupted and now he had three generations of blonde McQueen women staring at him. His gaze did not falter from my mother, nor did he show any level of discomfort being surrounded by the three most powerful witches this side of the Mississippi. Jon was not afraid of me, despite what I was, thus he was not really afraid of my mother, but I had warned him of my grandmother. I was a bit taken aback by his brazen lack of concern for her wiles. We clearly needed to have another talk after this poker display. I frankly do not trust her not to become vengeful and put some kind of hex on him.
My mom smiled politely and nodded to Jon and said, “Of course detective and while I am at it, you can fill me in on how my daughter has been behaving around all those mortals. It is a mother’s right to worry about such things after all.”
I groaned and said, “Mom, I am a cop! It goes without saying that I am protecting and serving!” My voice squeaked a bit, losing some or all of its authority in the process. My mom smiled warmly and her steel colored eyes lost the edge of cold bite, which they held for her mother.
“Tis a hard thing to see one’s child grown and venturing out on their own for the first time Jennifer.” Joan had a slight hint of longing and regret flashed through her blue eyes, but it was quickly masked. My mom ignored her and just kept her gaze on Jon and said, “Detective, please show me to your crime scene.”
Jon gave her a charming smile and nodded saying, “Oui, this way, then Miss McQueen.” His Cajun seemed to twang more thickly around my grandmother’s French accent now. It was an interesting thing to hear and observe.
We walked back into the room where our dead witch was and my mom began to drink in the crime scene.
Chapter: 3
I was still reeling from my mother’s surprisingly timely arrival and the scene that had happened directly before it. Jon was looking at Jadenwith a lot more suspicion and a lot less good will now. He thought all my warnings about dealing with the sects from our end were just exaggerations from a biased source. The unfettered reality of the scene between Jadenand I had rectified his earlier assumptions. He had only ever dealt with the fluffy bunny witches until now—never seeing the monsters that could lurk below the human facades.
I felt this itching desire to know if he finally saw me for the freak I was now. Had my little display of magic coaxed out the human instincts in him? Fear of the unknown was the typical human folly and I was nearly certain that he could only fear me too now. Jadenwas unlikely to directly harm Jon, ever, but I would not let him out of my sight while we remained here.
We st
ood vigil outside for over two more hours while my mother silently worked her mojo in the little shotgun house. Hunger pangs of two varieties had reared their ugly heads and I was now starving for food and blood. The human side of me was becoming more irritable by the moment, but it was the dyamphyr inside me I was holding in check. Being a hungry dyamphyr surrounded by strong magic blood was akin to being in all you can eat buffet of your favorite foods.
It was interesting that I noticed over time the attraction to magical blood over human blood, yet I had never been drawn to my mother once. It seemed to me that I could not consider eating anyone that I held a bond to. That could also explain why the humans on the force held zero appeal to me now too. Was this just a dyamphyr thing, or could vampires too learn to faze humans and witches off their menu? I had no vampires to ask, nor did I know any of the other known dyamphyrs.
Blood, Blood, Blood—the rhythm of the thoughts pulsed in my mind like a singular existence all their own. My throat burned and dried so unnaturally in my sudden thirst cravings. The burn in the pit of my stomach told me that the protests were just beginning to fire up into full swing now. How exactly had I starved myself most of my life and just struggled through this sense numbing pain? I am truly a masochist, I thought to myself.
I could sense the discomfort of the witches around me, they too seemed to be struggling with exhaustion and hunger. The most ironic thing was Jon was the least fazed by us all from this all-nighter we were pulling. The “feeble” human was taking the lack of sleep and food in stride better than the rest of us now. In my defense, it was generally a bad idea to not eat as a dyamphyr. Humans and witches were not going to open up an artery in desperation for their next meal! I had never lost control and bitten into anyone in an attack, but I did not want to start now.