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Black Market (The Wizard Hall Chronicles Book 2)

Page 5

by Sheryl Steines


  “You… you sent that… that man after the ring. It’s your fault for bringing the nonmagical police here!”

  Ezekiel slammed his fist into the wooden desk top, which shook and teetered before sliding to the floor. He flared his nostrils, and his eyes furrowed, pulling on already extended skin. In a hushed, hard whisper, the djinn jeered, “I suggest you do something to keep the police from finding the portal. It will be bad for all of us if you don’t.”

  “You have been nothing but trouble since you arrived. Leave. You have until midnight. Take whatever is yours and find someone else to twist.” Gladden huffed and puffed as he sucked in air.

  “I think not, Gladden. You summoned me. Asked me for a little favor. Do you remember that?”

  Gladden’s eyes grew wide. He feared the djinn with every ounce of his being. “Ye—yes,” he stammered.

  “You can’t default on this deal. Handle the police.” Ezekiel marched from the tent.

  Chapter 4

  “Damn nonmagicals… morgue… cause more problems,” Gibbs said when Annie asked him to join her at the Cook County Morgue. Though John Gibbs was an amazing wizard guard, he disliked most things nonmagical, including nonmagicals themselves.

  “Nah. Take Spencer,” he said after she laid out the plan.

  Ignoring his halfhearted attempt to decline the request, Annie said, “I can’t. It’s Spencer’s kid’s birthday tonight.”

  Gibbs shook his head. “Girl, two calls from that FBI man. Ignore him.” He grumbled under his breath one more time, then finally said, “Time?”

  “Midnight. See, was that so hard?” she asked. He griped yet again and headed back to his cubicle.

  Annie had known Gibbs her whole life. He had worked with her father. Whenever she needed him, no matter the impulse, Gibbs wouldn’t deny her request.

  However, he wasn’t her assigned Wizard Guard partner. That was Spencer Ray, whom she’d been working with since her relationship with Cham changed and they became a couple eight months ago. Couples working together was against company policy, so they had sorted through their cases and switched partners.

  Annie didn’t blame Spencer for turning her down for this mission; she’d have hated for him to miss his kid’s birthday because of a whim sent to her by Jack Ramsey.

  Though I know it’s our case.

  Under normal circumstances, the VAU handled magical deaths that found their way to the morgues, but because Jack had called Annie, the case was still unofficial. It was her responsibility to verify the death before sending in the VAU.

  As she packed the case folder into her field pack, Spencer stopped by her cubicle and stuck his head inside. “Keep me posted,” he said.

  “I will. Wish Riley a happy birthday for me!” She waved as he headed out to the pizza and video game birthday party.

  The phone rang as Annie was ready to leave.

  Last call and I’m done.

  “Hey Bucky,” she said, noticing the caller ID. Anxious to leave, she switched her weight from foot to foot.

  “Sorry, Annie. No luck on the exact design, though Mrs. Cuttlebrink also believes it’s Middle Eastern. I’ll send what we have to the Middle East Wizard Guard and see if they recognize it and our victim.”

  “Yeah. I agree, that’s a good place to start,” Annie said.

  “Okay. Just sent. I’ll text when I hear something.”

  “Thanks, Bucky.” As she hung up, Cham entered the cubicle and placed a picnic basket on her desk. “Hey what are you doing here?” she asked him.

  “It’s dinner. No closer to finding who John Doe is?” Cham emptied the contents: sandwiches, chips, drinks.

  “Nope. Bucky’s sending it to the Middle Eastern Wizard Guard, thinking that’s what the brooch was. What did you bring? I was coming home.”

  “Yeah, and you’ll worry about the morgue until you leave. Sit.” Cham placed a small cheese-and-cracker tray, sandwiches, and a bowl of fruit on top of the desk and lit a candle with a wave of his palm across the wick. The warm glow was lost in the bright artificial lights.

  “Not as romantic as I intended,” he admitted. He waved a palm at the lights above the cubicle, dimming them.

  “Nice.” Annie reached for a sandwich and took a small bite. It slid down her throat roughly and sat like a rock in her stomach. She was suddenly aware of how not hungry she was at the moment and pushed the sandwich away.

  “You okay?” Cham reached across the table for her hand, rubbing her palm with his thumb, a gesture Annie loved.

  Why am I so anxious? “Yeah. It’s just…” She fumbled with a cracker, twirling it between her fingers. “We’re going to the morgue blind. Besides it being creepy, I don’t have the FBI to clean out the employees.” Last time she worked in the morgue, Jack Ramsey had the morgue empty; they had no worries about being discovered. This time, she had no idea who was working or when they would be working.

  “Eat. I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Cham said.

  After gentle encouragement, Annie worked on half the sandwich and a few pieces of fruit. Conversation flew quickly and easily. By the time midnight approached, they had discussed everything from the current broomstick racing season to spring training and the Chicago Cubs. Gradually, conversation descended into less important topics, all with the idea of keeping Annie’s mind from wandering to the morgue.

  “I need to head out,” Annie finally said reluctantly. Without speaking, Cham walked her to the courtyard of Wizard Hall, the center of four connected Wizard Council buildings that housed everything from the legislature to education headquarters, museums, and the hospital.

  They passed a security officer named Griff, who waved as they left through the back exit, the one all magicals used when entering and exiting the building.

  With little time left, Cham led her to one of the picnic tables at the center of the park. Even in the middle of the city, moonlight bathed them in a warm glow. Though it was only thirty degrees, Annie felt warm.

  As she rested her head on Cham’s shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes, and his fingers grazed her chin, her cheek, and through her hair. As they moved back to her chin, he pulled her face upward and bent in to kiss her. Sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around him, she forgot they were in the center of the courtyard, that the hospital wing was still open, and that patients, doctors, and other officials were milling about at this late hour. Suddenly, a door swished and closed with a bang.

  “Busy night,” she said when she pulled away. Over his shoulder, an elderly man, bundled tightly in winter gear, sat in his wheelchair as a woman Annie assumed was his wife wheeled him outside. Once away from the building, the woman wrapped her arms lovingly around the chair and teleported the entire entity away.

  That could be us someday. She leaned against the love of her life and smiled, her arms wrapped around him.

  “You okay?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Better now. I should go.” The sky was clear. With barely a breeze, teleporting to the morgue would be quick and easy.

  “VAU standing by?” Cham asked.

  “Yeah. Hiding somewhere near there.”

  “I’ll wait for you at your place.” He touched her cheek with a rough finger, the one she stitched up so many years ago after an accident during survival training. The scar scratched her skin.

  His hand cupped her chin, and he kissed her one last time. With her arms around his neck, she jumped into his arms. As always, he caught her with ease.

  *

  After midnight, Gibbs and Annie landed on the roof of the Cook County Morgue. The light was dim at best; they crouched and waited for their eyes to acclimate to the low light, scanning the roof for security cameras.

  “Two in the corners on the east side,” Gibbs whispered.

  Annie spotted two on the west side, both pointing toward the street; she responded in kind.

  While Gibbs slunk to the east to scout the edge, Annie headed in the opposite direction and peered down
over the city.

  “We’re clear up here,” Gibbs said. With nothing to draw attention to their presence, they met back at the center.

  “There’s a possibility the medical examiner and staff are in there,” she warned.

  “Most likely.” Gibbs grimaced, the same look he’d given her many times before.

  He really hates being here, but he’s doing it for me.

  “Got a plan? You don’t have the FBI to clear them out.”

  “I gave it some thought before I decided to charge into a government building. We either freeze the room or pull the fire alarm,” she said. It’s a plan. I never said it was a good one.

  “I’ll freeze the room,” Gibbs grunted and led them to the building’s entrance, a solid yet simple metal door with a standard lock that wobbled when Annie reached for it.

  “I think I could kick this open if I wanted to,” Annie commented.

  “Not likely they needed something stronger. I doubt we’ll see any booby traps.”

  Breaking into buildings, homes, and government facilities was merely a function of being of a wizard guard. As per standard procedures, Gibbs faced the entry to the left with his palms out. Annie held her hand six inches from the handle, cast the spell, and twisted her wrist as she did. The lock popped open.

  Apprehensively, Annie pulled the door open and waited for an alarm to blare. None did.

  A cold breeze blew off of Lake Michigan, whipping against them and stinging their faces and hands. Another winter storm was about to blow through the area.

  “Gotta move before we can’t teleport,” Gibbs said.

  They stared into the semi-darkness. The shadowy light created by soft bulbs at the floor was strong enough to ensure they wouldn’t tumble down the steps.

  Annie took a breath. For her, the silence was maddening; it revealed nothing about who was working in the building.

  “Is it worth it?” Gibbs asked her, though her answer wouldn’t change his mind about assisting her.

  I really wish Jack was here to clear our way. “You don’t think it is?” she answered as they slid into the Cook County Morgue, taking their first steps into the darkened stairwell.

  “Does it matter what I think?”

  No, it doesn’t.

  Whether Jack’s hunch was correct or not, the crime scene photos led them to conclude that the victim was a wizard, and it needed to be dealt with one way or another.

  Stalling, Annie stopped at the first landing and peered through the vertical window in the door that led to an empty hallway. Fluorescent lights were low, offering enough visibility for them to make it to either the elevator or the stairwell. Many doors lined each side of the hallway.

  How many hundreds are still occupied?

  “You’re nuts,” Gibbs whispered.

  “Ah, you love me so much,” Annie said before descending the next two flights of stairs.

  Above them, hinges screeched loudly as a door swung open. Footsteps cracked against the cement floor; the door slammed shut, and the sound reverberated in the empty stairwell.

  Annie’s heart fluttered wildly as Gibbs yanked her into the corner of the landing, his arm protectively holding her against the wall. She held her breath as footsteps descended the stairs.

  Click… click… click.

  Heavy steps grew closer. Gibbs prepared to teleport.

  Click… click… click…

  Hinges squeaked as another door opened. The footsteps trailed down the hallway until the door slammed shut, plunging the hall into silence.

  “You can let go now,” Annie whispered. Gibbs loosened his grip, took a step closer to the stairs, and glanced up.

  “Let’s go.” Grabbing Annie’s wrist, he pulled her down the final flight of stairs.

  They took turns glancing through the window to view the empty waiting area outside the morgue. It hadn’t changed in the eight months since they investigated Princess Amelie’s murder. The small space contained six chairs: three on the wall to their left and the three to the right, which sat under a large window overlooking the morgue. The shades were open, the lights off.

  Annie breathed a sigh of relief. “We’re alone for now,” she told Gibbs.

  A video camera whirled and rotated from side to side, sweeping the waiting area and the hallway. When it turned away from their position to scan the hallway, Gibbs touched the corner of the window, dissolving the pane. With a wave of his palm the camera shut off, blanketing them in complete silence. They entered the waiting room.

  With no one seemingly coming down their side of the basement, Annie opened the door with a gloved hand.

  Gibbs positioned himself at the door. Setting a hand on the wall, he cast a spell; white light flashed around the room before it shimmered away.

  “You’re good,” he said and stood beside the door, waiting for any visitors.

  The spell was designed to keep the light from Annie’s flashlight from being discovered as she examined the room, getting her bearings. It hadn’t changed since she was here last. Steel autopsy tables still crowded the middle of the room; they shined in her low light. They clearly had recently been scoured clean with antiseptic. It hung in her nose, and she grimaced.

  Five small desktops hung from two of the walls. Papers and folders were piled high and teetering on several more desks. Another desk stored several plastic containers filled with evidence; yet another held a hand saw.

  Annie started with the folders, each of which was labeled clearly with a victim’s name. As a new case, John Doe was near the top of the pile. The file here was thin as the one Bucky had printed for her.

  There’s probably nothing new.

  She perused the file quickly, and noticed an unsettling addition. An X-ray had been taken. She held up the film, examining it with her flashlight. Although she was not an expert, Annie could still tell that the object at the center of the torso didn’t belong.

  “What is it?” Gibbs asked.

  “Don’t know.”

  “Mark the file for the VAU. We need to get out of here before anyone comes back,” Gibbs commanded He tapped the side of his leg with his flashlight as he glanced out the morgue window.

  Annie cast a spell on the folder and replaced it where she found it, just in case someone noticed.

  Texting Bucky, she asked him to find and print the X-ray as she continued to peruse the contents of the morgue refrigerator. It stood in the corner, larger than the one she owned at home. Inside, she found bodily fluids and other biologicals, neatly marked. She searched for the John Doe, grateful they hadn’t been sent to the lab yet.

  Taking out several tubes, she held them in her hand and chanted a spell.

  “Essence of the magic, release itself,

  Return to its owner so that none can see.”

  “Hurry, girl,” Gibbs grunted. He continued to pace in front of the large window, his eyes darting around the nearly dark waiting room.

  “Almost done,” she said. The blood bubbled as the magic released from the liquid, dissipating into the air. When she was sure the magic was removed from the samples, she placed the test tubes back into their positions and slammed the door shut. “I’m heading to the cooler,” Annie advised.

  “The VAU should be doing this, not you,” Gibbs said harshly.

  Ignoring him, Annie pulled open the steel doors; cold air rushed out at her.

  “We don’t have time,” Gibbs grumbled.

  Annie rolled her eyes and stepped inside the freezer.

  “Just check for magic and leave,” Gibbs ordered through gritted teeth.

  The last time Annie had been in the cooler, the four large shelving units, four levels high had been packed with the dead, and the overflow of bodies had lain on tables shoved against every available wall space. Today, only the shelves were packed. She started with the first row, glancing quickly at each of the toe tags and moving to the next dead body to see whether it was a victim of a crime or natural causes.

  The first row left her witho
ut her John Doe. She climbed up, keeping her feet wedged under the body bag. Slowly, she inched her way across, examining the tags. Some victims were zippered safely inside body bags while others lay with the bags opened, their skin exposed to the cold and their hands, feet, and hair tangled messes cascading from the plastic.

  The second row also held no John Doe. Annie jumped down and started the process again. This time she was fortunate. The first body in this new row was hers.

  She unzipped the bag quickly. The tell-tale scorch mark was dark and still smelled of burnt flesh. She ran a crystal over the short, fat body, bloated and gray with death. The rock glowed with a dim light, dark purple, nearly black, it radiated just enough light for Annie to know, John Doe was hit with black magic.

  Gibbs’s boots clacked against the cement floor.

  “Black magic,” she called out.

  “Not as crazy as I thought you were. Now hurry up!”

  Storing the first magical energy in her crystal, Annie moved to the stomach area where the mysterious object appeared on the X-ray. She moved the crystal across his abdomen. This time, the crystal glowed a clean, bright white light.

  That’s weird.

  “Annie, now!” Gibbs shouted.

  Fearing someone was coming, she hastily zipped the bag and marked the body for the VAU with magical locators before contacting Graham Lightner.

  “Black magic.” Annie said when he answered. His pen scratched against paper.

  “Anything else?”

  “I marked the file and the body. There’s an X-ray that we didn’t know about earlier. Bucky’s pulling it now.”

  “Okay. I have the copy of the folder; we have a body to exchange it with. Did you find the evidence?” he asked.

  “Gibbs is ornery. There’s no time,” Annie advised. More scratching on the other end of the phone.

  “No problem. We’ll handle it. Anything else?”

  “Nope, do your thing.”

  “On it.”

  Finished in the cooler, Annie joined Gibbs in the empty morgue. He was eyeing the medical examiner, whose identification read Dr. Gordon Martz and who was walking from the hallway to the morgue holding a pile of folders.

 

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