by T K Eldridge
“I’m sorry you had to do this,” I said.
Tasha reached out to squeeze my arm lightly before she sat back in her seat. “I’m sorry I had to do this to you. “
“Can I see the video from the jail?” I asked.
“Not yet. Just because I questioned you doesn’t mean you’re cleared. Tino is going over the footage outside the building from that night to see if we can get a face shot. Problem is, some of the footage is missing.”
“What do you mean, missing?”
“Well, the camera over the cell block entrance door malfunctioned, and the camera at the Belle Cove PD next door was out, too. So there is nothing around the door or that part of the parking lot for the time frame we need.”
“That sounds really suspicious to me,” I said.
“And me. That’s why I had to bring up the flying. Someone said that even if there was footage, you could’ve flown right up to the building, shifted, and walked inside.”
“But even if I had done that, I would’ve still been caught on the door camera, and I would’ve had to use my access code or have a guard let me in. I didn’t do either.”
“And we can’t find the guard who was working the door during those hours. Aaron Finley isn’t answering his phone, so we sent a patrol over to check his house.”
My look of concern matched Tasha’s. “Aaron Finley and I do not get along,” I said. “He was one of the ones who made our time at the Academy a living hell. He would never have let me in.”
“And if something has happened to him, you’re going to be a prime candidate for the one responsible.”
“Depends on when it happened. If it was last night? I’m screwed. If it was this morning? I’m good. I was up at six and out of the house by seven. I stopped at the gas station and got my tires checked, filled up the SUV by seven-fifteen until a little after seven-thirty. Then I was at the coffee shop for over twenty minutes because the line was so long and they messed up my order and had to redo it – then I came here. There were people around me all morning.”
“And Sidonie?”
“I have no clue, but she usually gets up and out the door fairly early, then gets breakfast for herself and the Commander at the coffee shop, and is in here at the butt-crack of dawn. She likes to run before she eats lunch these days – says all the sitting makes her sleepy if she doesn’t.”
Tasha made a few notes, then got to her feet. “I’m going to give my report to the Commander. I’d suggest you keep your head on a swivel until we figure out what’s going on.”
“I will. I’m supposed to be on patrol with you today, aren’t I?” I asked.
“No, you’re with Grizz. I’m tangled up in this. Ian’s going to grab a floater to do his patrol.”
“Gotcha. Well, let me know if you figure it out?”
“I will, Sin. Just let it go for now. Stay safe out there,” Tasha said and left the office.
I finished my coffee, then rinsed my cup and went to find Grizzell. Hopefully he wasn’t thinking I was a murdering asshole, too.
* * *
To my relief, Grizz was happy to be partnered with me again today and we were out on patrol when a call came in for a 10-15 – a domestic violence call. Regular cops hate domestic violence calls because they are so volatile and generally more dangerous than a shoot out. Supernatural cops hated them for those reasons, and because when tempers were high, shifters would shift, magic users could lose control of a spell, and life in general got real interesting.
Grizz hit the siren and lights, and we sped toward the address on the border of Belle Cove and Sorsyville.
I got on the radio and called it in. “SPD 4 en route to 10-15.” I said.
“Roger that, SPD 4. Backup leaving the station now,” the dispatcher said.
Grizz skidded to a stop in front of a two-story brick home with a neat lawn and a couple of kids bikes against the garage door. We jogged across the lawn and up the steps, where he pounded on the door. “Police! Open up!” Grizz yelled.
From inside we could hear screaming and yelling, the sounds of kids wailing, and a dog barking. I tried the knob and the door opened, so Grizz shoved it wide and yelled into the house. “Police! We’re coming in!”
I followed Grizz as he stepped into the house, then sidestepped him as two young kids ran around the corner and straight towards us. I took a breath as I saw they were shifters.
“You’ve gotta stop him, he’s gonna kill her,” the older boy yelled. He looked to be about ten, and his face was red and wet with tears.
His sister was maybe eight, and she ran right to me, sobbing as she hugged my leg. “Don’t let Daddy kill Mommy, please!”
I patted the girl’s shoulder, then peeled her off my leg and handed her to her brother. “You two go out front and stay out there on the step, okay? We’ll take care of this. Don’t come back inside until I say it’s safe, got it?”
The boy nodded and hustled his sister out front and I watched them sit on the step before I followed Grizz towards the kitchen. “Shifters,” I whispered to him and he nodded as he got to the corner of the wall and I took up the opposite side.
“I’m Agent Leonidas with the SPD. Both of you put your hands on top of your heads and turn to face me. NOW,” Grizz yelled.
I don’t know if it’s a griffin thing, but his voice vibrated my bones when he yelled. Both parents spun around and stared at the door, shocked into silence.
“Hands on your heads,” I repeated.
Both put their hands on their heads. I saw the man’s hands were shifting back from claws, and the woman’s face was bruised and her throat bore the marks of his clawed hands, with blood seeping down the side of her neck. Now, if they were human? I would’ve called for an ambulance, but she’d be healed up in about ten minutes, thanks to her shifter genetics.
“Grizz, you got him?” I asked as he stepped into the kitchen with magic-binding cuffs that even shifters couldn’t break. I pulled out my phone and took a couple of quick photos of her injuries before they faded, then cuffed the wife as well.
“I’ve got him. I’ll take him out to the car, you check on her,” Grizz said.
Once the husband was out of the room, I picked up one of the chairs that had been knocked over in the fight, and helped her sit on it. “You’re only cuffed for our safety,” I said. “Let me clean you up a bit?” I wet a paper towel and dabbed at the blood once she’d nodded her acquiescence.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Anna Forsythe,” she replied. “I’m sorry you had to come out here. Tensions have been so high and I didn’t do what he asked quickly enough. It’s all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “It’s his for putting violent hands on you. Did you hit him first? Did you throw something at him?”
“No, never. I just didn’t have his sandwich ready fast enough and he got angry. Where are my kids?”
“They’re out front. You’re healing up now, and I’m going to take off the cuffs. Are you calm enough to talk to me without me needing them on you?”
“Yes, Agent. I’m better. Could I get a glass of water?”
“Of course, Mrs. Forsythe. It’s your home.” I uncuffed her, and let her get her water and wash up while I put the furniture back to rights and found the broken plate and crushed sandwich in a corner of the kitchen – and tossed both into the trash. When she turned back to me, I made sure she knew there was glass in the trash, and finished with her statement. “He’s going to be charged with assault. Even if you don’t press charges, we saw his hands shifted and the marks on you.”
I got a broom from beside the fridge and began to sweep the floor while Anna wiped at her face and neck with a damp towel. “This isn’t the first time he’s done this, is it?” I asked.
“No. I’m just a bad wife,” Anna said, voice soft.
The boy came to the kitchen door and spoke. “No, Mama. You’re not a bad wife. He’s just a bad husband. I can’t watch him hurt you anymore.”
“Oh, PJ,” she said as she hugged her son. The little girl came in and hugged her mother’s leg. “Lynne, it’s going to be okay.”
“Were you the one that called 991?” I asked PJ.
“Yes, sir. When I saw him start to shift his hands, I called.”
911 was for regular PD, 991 was for the SPD. The boy had been right to call us.
“Are you three going to be okay here?” I asked.
“Yes, Agent. I’ll sign your report and we’ll pack up a few things and go stay with my sister. She’s got a cabin on the compound.”
“Good idea. We’ll file the report with the SPD and with Alpha Benny. I’ll leave my card with you so you can call if you have any questions,” I said as she signed the report and I gave her a business card.
“Thank you, Agent,” Anna said as she hugged her children. I left the house and shut the door behind me, then got into the car.
“You there, you let me out of here. Your idiot partner isn’t listening to me,” Paul Forsythe yelled at me from the back seat.
“Shut up, Forsythe, or I’ll drop you on my Uncle Benny’s doorstep, still in cuffs,” I snapped as I called in to dispatch that we were on our way with a prisoner.
That shut him up pretty quick. Benny had a thing about pack members being abusive to their partners or children. Men and women who had violated that trust were often never seen again, depending on the severity of their violation.
Grizz just chuckled and drove us back to the station.
“I’ll book him while you file the paperwork,” Grizz said as we brought Forsythe into the station.
“Roger that,” I said, and took the tablet over to the docking station and got everything filed and loaded. I then sent the photos from my phone to the case number and checked that they had attached properly.
“Hey, lookie there, it’s Agent Sinclair Boudreau. What are you doing, Boudreau?”
I turned to find Olsen and Bidderman standing behind me. “What?” I asked, as it was pretty obvious I was filing a report. No one used these terminals for anything else.
“I asked,” Olsen repeated through clenched teeth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Bidderman stood beside him, a nasty smile on his face.
“Filing a report. What’s wrong? Haven’t had a decent arrest in so long, you’ve forgotten what it looks like?” I said.
Bidderman swung a fist towards my gut and I slapped his arm down, turned and drove an elbow into his upper chest, which threw him backwards. Olsen moved towards me and I took a step back and kicked him hard enough to slam him into the high counter.
The officer that handled all of the prisoner transfers, intakes, and releases yelled at us to stop, but I had two on one and I didn’t dare let my head hit anything hard. Both of them came at me again and I kicked and punched until they were thrown back once more, but my lip was bleeding and my hip throbbed where I’d been slammed into the terminal console. I was backed into a corner.
Suddenly a roar filled the room and I slapped both hands over my ears as Grizzell used his Alpha voice and said, “Enough! Stop right now!”
Both Bidderman and Olsen curled on the floor, groaning in pain while I edged around them towards Grizz so I wasn’t in a corner any longer.
“What happened?” Grizz asked me as he handed me some tissues for my lip.
“They jumped me while I was filing the report,” I said.
Officer Vishnu came from around the counter and proceeded to cuff both Olsen and Bidderman. “I saw the whole thing,” Vishnu said. “They cornered Agent Boudreau and Bidderman threw the first punch.”
“You’re both going into a cell until the Commander decides what he wants to do with you,” Grizzell said.
“He’s a cop killer!” Bidderman yelled.
Olsen added, “He killed the person that tried to stop him, and then he killed Finley. We were just protecting the station.”
I stared at them both, shook my head, and turned towards the door. “I need to clean up. I’ll be upstairs when you need me.”
Grizz nodded. “Clean up and go find the Commander. I’ll be up there when these two are settled.”
I heard Grizz as I walked away. “You two are a pair of morons. He’s been with me all day and he was home last night. He’s not the one, now shut up and get a move on.”
At least someone had my back. I just wasn’t sure for how long.
Chapter Eight
Sid
I had scanned a whole copy of The Path of the Creators book that explained in detail each ritual that led to the summit ritual of the whole witchy pilgrimage. Now I had to figure out how best to translate the locations that no longer existed into something that would work for today’s witch. The best that Oak and I could tell, it wasn’t the places as much as it was the elements present for each ritual. A forest, a lake, a mountain peak, an ocean beach – all were present as locations for the main rituals at each segment. I figured we could find locations locally that would work as substitutes, so I took it upon myself to scout various locations and rewrite the pilgrimage with these new places and the new names for old spell ingredients so a modern witch could still successfully complete the Path. I still hadn’t found some of the ingredients, however, so I decided to drop in on Mom and see if she could help.
“Hey, Mom,” I called out as I stepped inside the front door of the Boudreau Estate. It had been in my father’s family for centuries and a year or so ago my parents had done a complete makeover. I had, at one time, dreaded coming here. Now, I enjoyed my visits. For the most part, anyway.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Mom yelled back, so I headed in that direction.
Reina and Rohan were in a fenced-off section of the kitchen, playing with toys and squealing at each other. Mom and Mira were at the island, herbs, oils, vials, and various tools scattered across the surface. The scent of mint, lavender, chamomile, and rose filled the air and I took a deep, appreciative sniff.
“What brings you by?” Mom asked as she used the edge of a knife to crush some leaves against the flat stone block in front of her.
“Hey, Sid,” Mira offered and gave Mom a sideways look. “Is she not supposed to come by?”
“No, but usually I only see Sid these days when she wants something,” Mom said.
“Fine, then I’ll ask Mira. I brought something for her anyway,” I replied, more than a little irritated by Mom’s words. “Mira, these were given to me by Grandma Maggie to give to you. They’re the notebooks she used to teach her children about herbs. She’s added to them since then and thought you might find them useful.”
Mira wiped her hands on a towel and reached for the books. “That’s incredibly generous of her. I’ll have to send her a thank you note.” Her tone was reverent as she carefully looked through a few pages, then hugged them to her chest. “Thanks for bringing them to me. So, you said you had a question, too?”
“Yeah, I’ve been working with Archivist Oak and I’m trying to update the old Path of the Creators spells so that modern day witches could still do it. I found translations and updated names for everything except for ‘weasel snout’ and ‘blood of a Hamadryas Baboon’.”
“Oh, weasel snout is yellow Archangel, but I’ll have to check on the baboon one,” Mira said.
I made a note and then looked over at Mom who was still clearly being pissy. “Do you know what the baboon one is, Mom?”
“I might.”
Mira turned to Mom and put her hands on her hips. “Amelia, do I need to pack up Reina and give you time to think?”
My mouth dropped open, but I quickly snapped it shut. Clearly Mira and mom had come to some kind of an agreement because Mom sighed and shook her head, then went over to a huge book set on a pedestal and flipped a few pages.
“Blood of a Hamadryas Baboon is the same as blood of a spotted gecko – or a leopard gecko. Many people keep them as pets, so you could probably get one at a local pet store,” Mom said.
“Thank you
. Both of you. I had found everything else on my own, just not those two. They both had multiple possibilities and I didn’t want to just guess.”
“You’re welcome. We’re almost where we can take a break, do you want to have lunch?” Mira asked.
“I don’t know if I’m all that welcome,” I replied, gaze locked on my mother. “And I’m not really sure why. Is it because I’m not constantly gushing over the babies or saying how much I want one of my own?” I watched Mom flinch and realized I’d nailed it. My voice softened as I stepped closer. “Mom, I love you, and I’m happy to help out now and then, but I’ve been working seven days a week, barely sleeping, to try and find a way to fix the ley line disruptions as well as do my regular SPD job. That’s why I’ve not been around much. As for wanting kids? Maybe. Someday. Fifty years down the road. Right now? No, I don’t want kids. Not even a little bit. And that’s okay. Not everyone has to be a wife and mother in order to feel complete. Some do, and that’s great for them, but there are more than a few, like me, who just don’t need it. That’s my choice, Mom, and you don’t have to like it, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t punish me for it.”
Mom wiped off her hands and came around the island. “All I ever wanted was a houseful of kids. I got you and Sin. I thought that was all I’d ever get – and then Rohan came along. I am blessed, but I don’t want you to wait and maybe find out you can’t have them at all.”
“Mom? If I can’t have any, then that’s fine too. I don’t crave children. I am still really young for someone who can live a couple of centuries, and I am in no rush. Can you give me that? Please?”
“Amelia,” Mira said, her tone also gentle. “Women in our generation are not taught that being a wife and mother is the pinnacle of success. That doesn’t mean being a wife and mother is not an achievement – it’s just not the only achievement for a woman in these times.”
“Exactly that. I admire you, and Mira, for raising healthy, happy children – and still doing something for a career. Me? I’m happy playing with my string of boyfriends and working my ass off in my career.”