Deadly Spells

by Jaye Wells

  “Why, so Anderson can tell you no one trusts the Adept kid?” Danny’s tone was defeated. Couldn’t blame him. Some of life’s lessons were particularly hard to swallow.

  “No,” Mez said with a grin, “so I could have helped you make a potion that no one can trace.”

  A shocked laugh escaped Danny’s mouth. Even Pen had to cover her mouth with her hand to hide her amusement.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I said. I would, of course, but I had to maintain the illusion of being a good parental influence. “And all things considered, the magic lessons end now.”

  Danny opened his mouth to argue, but Mez spoke over him. “Agreed.” His hard tone shut down the kid’s protests. The wizard turned to me. “Kate, I’m so sorry this happened. I know you had reservations about him taking lessons—”

  I waved a hand. “This isn’t on you. It was Danny’s decision to misuse magic. You didn’t teach him that.”

  Danny’s head lowered. “I know I screwed up,” he said. “I was just so angry!”

  “Which is why the first thing I taught you was not to use magic when your emotions are unpredictable,” Mez said.

  The kid nodded. “You’re right.”

  Pen leaned back with a sigh. “Jesus, Mary, and Jerome—what a mess.”

  “Is there anything you can do, Pen?” Danny pleaded.

  Pen shook her head. “It’s out of my hands.”

  My phone rang into the silence following Pen’s statement. I jumped in shock and pulled it from my pocket. It was Morales. I considered not answering, but I knew he’d keep trying until he got me. “Be right back, guys.”

  I answered on the third ring. “Hey.”

  “Where are you?” No hello. He was pissed.

  “At home.”

  “Shadi said you were going to the school.”

  I sighed. “Danny got expelled. We just got here.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “What happened?”

  “It’s too long to get into now,” I said. Normally I would have filled him in, but given the weird limbo following our argument I wasn’t sure I was ready to confide in him about anything. “Are you at the docks?”

  A beat of silence followed my question. “Yeah. Nothing yet, but there’s a lot of territory to cover.”

  “Sorry I’m not there to help.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” His tone was aloof, distant. “Anyway, I was calling to see if you heard from Gardner this morning.”

  I frowned. “No, why?”

  “She wasn’t at the gym this morning when I checked in and she hasn’t returned my calls.”

  “Hold on, I’ll ask Mez.”

  “Mez is at your house?”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t explain because it would take too long. Besides, I didn’t owe Morales an explanation for everything. I walked to the doorway and covered the phone. “Hey, Mez?”

  He looked up from where he and Pen were talking quietly. Danny had reverted to sullen silence with his arms crossed and his chin tucked. “What’s up?” the wizard asked.

  “You heard from the boss today?”

  He shook his head. “Why? Is something the matter?”

  I shook my head. “Not sure yet. She hasn’t checked in with Morales.” I lifted the phone to my ear and told Morales what Mez had said.

  “Shit. All right. Let me know if you hear from her, okay?”

  “Yep.”

  “Should I assume you’re in family-crisis mode for the rest of the day?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Is everything okay?” His tone had changed from distant to concerned.

  I paused, unsure whether he was asking about Danny or about us. “It will be,” I said, because it covered both circumstances.

  “All right,” he said. “Tell Mez to come pitch in once he’s done at your place.”

  With that he clicked off without saying good-bye. I pulled the phone from my ear and watched it for a moment. A low curse escaped my lips. How had everything gotten so fucked up?

  “Kate?” Mez said, coming to the door. When I looked up, he continued. “Everything okay with Morales?”

  I briefly told him about the conversation. “I’m worried about Gardner,” I said. “Last night I found her in your lab cooking something.”

  He frowned. “Really? When I got in this morning, nothing looked out of place.”

  “She asked me not to tell anyone, but considering she’s not returning any calls, I’m worried she’s done something stupid.”

  “Maybe she just needs some time alone. This case has brought up a lot of shit she thought was behind her, you know?” He looked so confident that I grabbed on to it and borrowed some of it for myself.

  “I guess you’re right,” I said. “Still, I’d feel better if she checked in.”

  “I’m about to head out. I’ll swing by the gym. She might have her ringer off or something and didn’t see the calls. After that, I’ll go meet the others at the docks and pitch in on the search.”

  I nodded and blew out a breath. “Thanks, Mez.”

  I glanced over toward the table where my crestfallen brother and my best friend sat side by side. I had a feeling while Mez, Morales, and Shadi were tracking down the bad guy, I’d have my hands full trying to figure out where to send Danny to school now.

  “Let us worry about Souza and Gardner.” Mez put a hand on my shoulder. “You just worry about keeping things tight here. We’ll call if anything changes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Late the next morning Morales and I were on our way to Gardner’s place. After not hearing from her all night, the entire team had gone into emergency mode. Shadi and Mez were manning the phones at the gym, but thus far none of Gardner’s contacts had seen her. Morales had stopped by Gardner’s apartment the night before, but no one had answered. We were headed back there in the hopes any evidence or signs of struggle would be easier to find in the daylight.

  “So did you ground him?” Morales asked.

  I sighed and shook my head. “No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t happy about him using magic for revenge like that, but in the end he was trying to defend the girl.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  I shook my head. I’d filled him in on the Luna situation because I knew he’d keep it quiet. “Pen thought that pressure from me might ruin any chance of Luna coming forward to implicate Pierce.”

  “Do you know her parents?”

  “It’s just the mom. I’ve seen her at a couple of school events. According to Danny she’s a Mundane and doesn’t allow Luna any contact with magic.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Morales said.

  I raised a brow. “Yeah, and look at what coming around on that topic has led to.”

  He reached across the center console and squeezed my hand. “For what it’s worth, I still think you made the right call there.”

  I looked down at the connection. He withdrew his hand quickly, as if belatedly realizing his mistake. “Thanks, but he won’t be cooking again for the foreseeable future.”

  His support meant a lot to me even though it was unexpected. Ever since he’d called that morning to tell me to come to the gym for a meeting before we headed out to look for Gardner, I’d been bracing myself for The Talk. But so far, he’d been acting totally natural, as if the drama a couple of nights earlier never happened. And for that, I was more grateful than I’d been for his support of my parenting decisions.

  He shot me a look at my sudden silence and cleared his throat. “Anyway, what’s next?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll have to find him a different school. Probably public.”

  The previous afternoon I’d spent a couple of hours on the phone trying to figure out how to transfer him to our neighborhood public high school.

  “Aren’t there other private schools?”

  I nodded. “But I was receiving a hefty discount at Meadowlake because of Pen. Not sure I could afford any of the other schools. Plus, I’m pretty sur
e we’ll run into this sort of thing at most of the private schools in town since most are Mundane-dominant.”

  He nodded and we both fell silent, watching the buildings of the Cauldron give way to the Bessemer Bridge. The spot where Grace Cho’s body had been found now had a bunch of flowers and candles set out in memorial. “I have to tell you something,” I said.

  “What’s up?”

  “The other night I walked in on Gardner cooking.”

  He glanced over. “Which night?”

  “Two nights ago.” My eyes lowered at the unintentional reminder of the night of the kiss. Regardless, he made the connection and shot me a look questioning how that was possible when I’d been at his place. “Before I went to your place.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this then?”

  “I told you she was acting off, but you said she was just upset. I figured I was overreacting.”

  A muscle in his jaw worked. “What kind of potion was it?”

  I shook my head. “I couldn’t tell exactly.”

  He raised a brow. “But you have a theory, right?”

  I pressed my lips together, cursing him silently for knowing me that well. “Like I said, there was no way to be certain, but there were a few herbs that are common in a potion to enhance psychic powers or induce prophetic dreams.” I looked up. “The kind that might help a person locate an enemy.”

  His hands gripped the wheel tighter. I couldn’t help but worry he was wishing it had been my neck. “Let me see if I understand. You saw Gardner cooking a potion to locate an enemy, and you didn’t think to tell me about it until after she’s been missing for hours?” His tone was low and mean. When Morales got angry he didn’t shout—he seethed. “What the fuck, Kate?”

  “I told Mez.” Judging from the anger flaming behind his eyes, it had been the wrong thing to say. I rushed forward. “But either way, I didn’t think she’d be dumb enough to actually go through with it.”

  He made a disgusted sound, but some of his anger drained from his posture. “You’re right. She’s not that reckless.” He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than me.

  “But as much as I hate to say it, after she lost her last team to the bastard I’m pretty sure she’d do anything she could to save us from meeting the same fate.”

  He didn’t respond, but a muscle in his jaw started clenching like a fist. The SUV turned in to a modest apartment building, which was little more than a large gray rectangle with no adornments of any kind. No balconies, no shutters, no hedges or flower boxes.

  Morales pulled his car into a space near the far end of the building.

  “Which unit is it?” I asked.

  He got out of the car before answering. I joined him in front of the building. He took so long to answer I worried he’d decided to just stop talking to me. “Morales?”

  “Top floor, corner.” He pointed toward the unit on the top right-hand corner of the building. “When I came by last night the place was totally dark.”

  He started toward a set of metal stairs leading to the second floor. I followed him more slowly, and took the opportunity to scan the building and area for signs of anything suspicious. I was so focused on my task, I didn’t see him paused on the third step until I slammed into his back. “Damn, sorry,” I said, catching myself before I fell.

  Without a word, he turned to the side and backed against the wall to the right of the steps. I looked up at him, confused, but then he pointed to the fifth step.

  The smear wasn’t large but it was definitely blood. “Shit,” I gasped.

  My gaze climbed the rest of the steps and saw several more drops of blood leading up to the landing.

  “They’re dry,” he said. “Missed them last night because it was dark because the damned exterior lights were out.” Regret made his tone gritty.

  I sucked in a breath to try to tamp down the spurt of panic that climbed from my stomach into my throat. “It may not be hers. Gardner is a fighter. If someone came after her, they wouldn’t walk away without an injury.”

  He didn’t answer me. Instead, he took the rest of the steps two at a time, careful not to touch any of the bloodstains as he went. At the top of the staircase, he pulled something out of his jacket.

  By the time I reached him, he had his shoulder bent over the doorknob. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  “Letting myself in. Cover me.”

  I stepped in front of him, which gave me a view of his face. His expression was determined and grim, almost as if he expected to walk in and find Gardner’s body inside. But something in my gut told me we wouldn’t find her there. Whatever was going on, it wouldn’t be as easy as Pantera killing Gardner and leaving her body for us to find. Fast, easy deaths weren’t his style, for one thing. For another, no matter how I tried to look at it, I couldn’t figure out what he would gain from her death.

  Before I could voice any of these theories to my partner, he popped the lock and the door opened. Yet another reason I didn’t think Gardner was inside. Why would Souza lock the door on his way out?

  Morales stood on the threshold. He held his breath and stared into the dark room beyond. I could practically hear the argument in his head. Instead of telling him to relax, I pushed past him into the room. “Wait—”

  Ignoring him, I continued inside. As I went, I pulled my weapon from my waistband. The room smelled like spent ozone and dirty copper. Light streamed through the windows and highlighted the bloodstains on the cream carpet.

  This time Morales slammed into my back. His hands came up automatically to steady my shoulders. When I didn’t react, his eyes must have followed my gaze. “Fuck.”

  I turned quickly. His face had morphed into a mask of rage. “Drew, listen to me,” I said, grabbing his shoulder with my right hand. “She’s not here. We have to see that as a positive.”

  His eyes looked over my shoulder toward the bloodstain. I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. “She is still alive. As long as we keep it together she has a chance.”

  He swallowed hard, as if trying to get control of his temper. Finally, he nodded. “Clear the rest of the residence.”

  Hearing him switch back into mission mode helped ease some of my own tension. I gripped my gun with both hands again and began to clear the place room by room. As I moved through the motions of checking closets and bathrooms for unfriendlies, I took stock of Gardner’s home. I’d never been to her place before, and exploring it felt like an invasion. The living room had a simple but elegant sofa and a single armchair with a reading lamp. There was no TV. The room had plain white walls with no artwork. No plants added life to the spot. On the table in front of the couch lay journals focused on the academic sides of police work. At some point during my time on the team, Morales had mentioned that Gardner had started working toward her PhD in criminal justice. Looked like she spent her free time studying.

  The kitchen counters were empty, as was the sink. Not a dirty fork or coffee-stained cup to be found. In fact, the only room in the place that had any personality was her bedroom. Unlike the monastic furnishings of the other rooms, the bed had a wrought-iron canopy and a deep-purple-velvet bedspread. The walls were covered in pen-and-ink sketches of entwined nude bodies—lovers. I cringed inwardly knowing I’d entered her private sanctuary; it felt like having an uninvited peek beneath the no-nonsense facade she wore like armor.

  I moved beyond the bed and looked into the walk-in closet. All of Gardner’s suits were lined up like soldiers on the rods. Even though everything was in neutral hues, she’d sorted them by color and her shoes beneath were arranged by heel height. There were shelves at the front that were filled with neatly folded shirts, but I didn’t see one T-shirt or pair of jeans anywhere.

  “Prospero?” Morales called.

  I left the closet and went to join in him in the second bedroom. “All clear,” I said from the doorway. He was standing behind a simple wooden desk. The top was covered in stacks of files and books. It looked
a lot like her desk at the gym. Still, Morales stared down at it like he’d found a smoking gun on the surface. “What’s up?”

  “C’mere.”

  I went to join him. In the center of the desk, a file folder was open. Lying across it was a picture of Gardner’s old team, and next to that was a half-empty bottle of Scotch. “Looks like someone was walking down Memory Lane.”

  I frowned. “I don’t get any of this. She was planning on finding Souza. So why the blood?”

  “Maybe he found her first.”

  A loud vibrating sound came from the desk. The noise made me flinch, but Morales just leaned over and fished a cell phone from under the open file folder.

  “Is that Gardner’s?” I asked.

  He nodded and held up the screen for me to read. The call was coming from an unknown number. He punched the button to answer the call on speaker. Neither of us spoke, and for a moment the line just crackled.

  “Morales.” Hearing my partner’s name said with a Brazilian accent made a chill crawl up my spine.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “Don’t play games. Trust that Gardner doesn’t have time for them.”

  “Get to talking, then, since you called me.”

  The phone beeped to indicate an incoming text. “I just sent you a present.”

  Morales looked up at me, and I nodded. My stomach twisted with nausea. I didn’t want to see any picture an A Morte hit man would send, but at that point he was calling the shots. Morales licked his lips and hit the button to display the image.

  I put hand over my mouth to hold in my gasp. Morales’s knuckles turned white on the phone. I used my left hand to grab his right. He squeezed it back but wouldn’t look at me.

  Inside a darkened room, a spotlight glared at Gardner’s face. Both eyes were open, but the left was a mere slit tucked into a bruise. Her sight was clear and shooting bullets at the person taking the picture. A dark bruise marred the right side of her mouth, and a trickle of bright-red blood dripped from the corner to her chin. Someone had set a newspaper in her lap to show that morning’s date. The image on the front page was John Volos at the press conference two days earlier; the headline read, “Mayor Vows End to Violence.”