The Witchkin Murders

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “Lots. Peanut butter, cinnamon, chocolate chips, olive oil, bunch of spices, some other stuff.”

  “I would give my left arm for the peanut butter and chocolate chips,” he practically moaned.

  “You’re drooling.”

  “Damned right I am.”

  “I’d be willing to trade.”

  His expression lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Anything!”

  “You suck at negotiating,” Kayla pointed out. “You’re supposed to play a little hard to get.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? When it comes to peanut butter and chocolate, I’d grovel. On the ground. With bootlicking.”

  Kayla smiled despite herself. “As delightful as that sounds, I’d rather have something a little more concrete.”

  “I do great massages, and I’m an amazing cook.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of a spell. You can have all four jars of peanut butter and the giant Costco bag of dark chocolate chips, and in exchange I get any kind of spell I want, whenever I want. No questions asked.”

  He rubbed his thumb over his lips as he considered her through narrowed eyes. Something had shifted in him. A predatory tension sharpened his gaze. The easygoing man was gone. In his place stood someone dangerous. Violence wrapped him like a second skin, and suspicion chilled his eyes.

  “I don’t do blank checks,” he said in a flat voice. “People get hurt that way.”

  “Then I’ll think of you whenever I’m dipping a spoonful of peanut butter into a bowl of chocolate chips and binging myself into a coma.”

  He looked up at the ceiling as if the patience fairy would sprinkle some magic dust on him. “Shit, Kayla, you hit low.”

  She shrugged. “I am what I am.”

  His gaze narrowed on her. “What would you use a carte blanche spell for, anyway?”

  “No idea. But it’s like buying insurance. When an emergency hits, maybe I won’t be completely fucked.”

  He relaxed fractionally, but wary violence still clung to him. He eyed her as if she were a snake and couldn’t decide if she was venomous or not. “I can’t do ‘no questions asked,’ and I won’t do anything that hurts the city or the innocent.”

  “Fair enough.” She hadn’t figured her gambit would work, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. But to her surprise, he continued.

  “So to be clear, for the peanut butter and chocolate chips, I will owe you a spell—with safety conditions.” A smirk spread across his lips. “Which means you’ll have to call me at some point. In fact, let’s make that a condition. To keep the deal from expiring, you have to have coffee with me once a month.”

  Kayla scowled. “That’s not the deal.”

  “It is now.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Two months.”

  “Fine, but then it’s a full meal.”

  She sighed. “So long as you’re buying.”

  “Then it’s a deal.”

  He held out his hand. She eyed it and then reluctantly slipped hers into his grasp to shake. As elated as she was to have the promise of the spell in her back pocket, she wasn’t looking forward to regular dates with him. Or rather, she was looking forward to them, and that was definitely a problem.

  Chapter 9

  Kayla

  THE NAP DID A lot to restore Kayla’s equilibrium. Her scavenge journeys into The Deadwood always came with a hard crash afterward. It took every ounce of adrenaline, concentration, and mental energy she could scrape up just to get in and out alive. The trip, though exhilarating in its way, always left her feeling flat as a pancake. Stir in discovering a murder, emotional whiplash from seeing Ray, and fighting her transformation, and she’d been running on fumes.

  Zach loaded her into his Land Rover and drove her to an Italian restaurant out by the old train station. It was a little hole-in-the wall family place with a rustic atmosphere. Not all the patrons were human, a fact that Kayla appreciated. Zach wasn’t cryptophobic like so many humans. Not that he was human. But technomages had been the protectors and defenders of humanity in the Witchwar. Kayla expected most of them didn’t like witchkin much.

  The food was fresh and so good Kayla stuffed herself with lamb ravioli. Magicfall had left a good chunk of the rich farm fields of the Willamette valley mostly alone and flattened out a giant valley around Hagg Lake. That meant a lot of good food was readily available. Farmers had to contend with a growing population of feral pigs and giant carnivorous rodents, but nobody had to worry about starving.

  Kayla and Zach drank wine and ate while he regaled Kayla with funny stories of learning magic and some of the bizarre jobs he’d had to do since Magicfall. He flirted outrageously, which confirmed he probably did flirt with anyone, including light poles and fenceposts. It was in his DNA.

  Kayla’s phone chimed. She started and stared down at her pocket. It chimed again.

  “What’s wrong?” Zach asked.

  She shook her head, her brow furrowing. Only one person had her telephone number, and Nessa wouldn’t pick up a phone to save her own life. Taking her cell out, she checked the number. Shock spiraled up her spine. Ray.

  She put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Kayla?” His voice was textured with gravel, as if he’d drunk half a bottle of whiskey.

  “Yes.” When he didn’t say anything right away, she prompted him. “Ray?”

  “I’m here. I’ve got something going on. I need you to come to my scene.”

  Her frown deepened, and a maelstrom of emotion spun through her. That he called, that he wanted her to weigh in on a case, that she might have to step back onto the stage of a life she loved and had fled. Her hand clenched around her napkin in her lap.

  “Why?”

  He made a sound as though he was sucking his teeth. He did that when he was distracted or worrying about something. “I’ve got a kidnapping.”

  “Okay.”

  “I think you know the victims.”

  Dread woke inside her and she braced herself. “Who?”

  “Theresa Runyon and Margaret Valentine.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. “Who—” She broke off before she could ask who’d taken them. Ray wouldn’t have called her if he knew.

  “What do you need me for?” The words came out sharper than she intended.

  “Landon wants you here. He won’t talk to me otherwise.” He used his calm-the-witness voice. He paused and then said, “He’s pretty shook up. He could use someone.”

  And doubtless her father was only making Landon feel worse. Alistair had a knack for that. He also wouldn’t have told Ray the truth about the two women, and if their kidnapping had anything to do with their explosive secret, then Ray would need to know.

  “Okay. I’ll come.”

  “I’ll call Logan. I need him here, too. I’ll have him pick you up. Where are you?”

  Kayla glanced at Zach. “He’s here with me. Hold on. I’ll let you talk to him.”

  She passed her phone to Zach. He listened and then nodded. “Got it. We’ll get a van and be there asap.”

  He hung up the phone and handed it to her. “I guess we’re off, then.” He stood, holding a warm hand out to her.

  “What about the check? We need to pay for dinner.”

  He shook his head. “I come in and help out pretty regularly. I try not to charge Antonio for it, but he refuses to take money when I eat.”

  “Are you okay to drive?” Kayla wasn’t a big drinker, and though she’d only had a couple of glasses of wine, her head felt a little floaty.

  “I’m good. Being a technomage changes my metabolism. I can’t really get drunk anymore.”

  Kayla babbled all the way back to the lab. She didn’t want to give Zach an opening to ask her unpleasant q
uestions. Like why had Ray called her? And what did she have to do with the Runyons?

  Unfortunately, Zach had the patience of a sniper and didn’t give up easily.

  “So where exactly are we going?” he asked as they pulled out of the garage.

  Kayla eyed him. “Ray didn’t tell you?”

  “He said you’d know the way. He said to come in the back service entrance.”

  Oh. “Theresa Runyon and her daughter Margaret Valentine were kidnapped. We’re going to their estate.”

  He let out a low whistle. “That’s serious. No wonder he lit out like his ass was on fire.” He thought for a moment and then drilled down to the questions Kayla didn’t want him to ask. “Why does he need you there? How do you know where to go?”

  She looked out the window, not seeing anything. Zach didn’t prod her. She didn’t owe him an answer, but he was bound to find out, and anyway, what did it really matter? Finally, she heaved a quiet sigh.

  “Alistair Runyon is my father.” That’s it. One quiet declaration.

  He gave a low whistle. “Holy shit.”

  She snorted.

  “Did Ray know?”

  “Nobody knew.”

  “How come?”

  Kayla grimaced. “I despise my father with all my soul.” She paused. “He disowned me. When I joined the academy.”

  “Ouch.”

  “You have no idea.” And he never would. Nobody would.

  “What about the two kidnap victims—Theresa Runyon and Margaret Valentine? Those are your grandmother and aunt?”

  “Yes, on my father’s side.”

  “I take it you’re not close to them either?”

  Kayla fell back into memory. As a child, her grandmother had fascinated her. Theresa always smelled of rich perfume. She let Kayla play with any of the expensive knickknacks that decorated the mansion. Though she wasn’t the sort for a lot of physical affection, she’d been kind and loving in a distant sort of way.

  Margaret and Landon hadn’t moved to the estate until her husband died in a plane crash. Later Kayla had overheard her father lecturing her aunt on her poor choices and learned that Margaret’s husband had been fleeing the country with most of their money and his mistress.

  From the way he talked, Kayla had been certain her father had arranged the accident. Then he’d proceeded to dictate what her Aunt Margaret would do with her life and all of it was to be under his direction. Not that he could have said or done anything if Grandmother hadn’t permitted it. She was the iron fist in the household.

  That overheard conversation had taught Kayla how dangerous he could be, even to his family, and that if she wanted her own life, she was going to have to find a way to keep him in his place. It had taken her some time, but eventually she’d discovered the family’s deepest, darkest secret and she’d had her key to freedom.

  She made arrangements, and then she’d run like hell.

  “Kayla?” Zach’s voice brought her back to the present.

  “I was closer to my Aunt Margaret than my grandmother. Mostly because of Landon, my cousin. We spent a lot of time together, even though he’s younger than me by close to ten years. My aunt had lost her husband and was grieving, so I took care of Landon. She was nice to me.”

  “Not a ringing endorsement,” Zach observed dryly.

  “My family isn’t generally close.” Understatement of the century. The ties that bound the Runyons together were fear and greed, not love or loyalty.

  “How long has it been since you’ve been home?”

  “That place isn’t home. It’s never been home. I haven’t been back there in a little more than nine years. Since I joined the academy.”

  “You rose up the police ladder quick. You must have been a real hotshot.”

  It had only taken her two years after graduating from the academy to earn her detective’s badge. She’d been the youngest ever to qualify. She’d sometimes wondered if, even though her father had despised her career and had disowned her, he’d put pressure on the brass to promote her. It made sense. If it got out who she really was, he could brag on her brilliant rise and her outstanding record. If she was going to be a cop, at least she was a superstar, thanks to her Runyon genes. Just imagine if her real identity leaked out and she was mediocre at best. Oh, the humiliation! Her father would never accept that.

  The possibility he’d caused her career to skyrocket the way it had drove her to make sure she more than earned everything she’d got. She’d worked double and triple shifts, taken extra classes, and attended lectures and seminars. She’d read everything she could get her hands on focusing on criminology, forensics, psychology, poisons, weapons—anything and everything that would help her solve crimes. She was a pit bull on every case she worked. She never gave up, and she never let go. That passion and drive were what had made Ray and her click so well as partners.

  “I’m not sure I didn’t have help,” she confessed in a low voice. She’d never told anyone that before. Not even Ray. Especially not Ray.

  “You think your family boosted your career?”

  Zach’s question reflected only curiosity and no condemnation.

  “Maybe.”

  “You were a good cop.”

  She glanced at him. “How would you know?”

  He lifted a shoulder in a little shrug. “I may have checked your record at the lab when you were asleep.”

  “How very stalkery of you.”

  “It’s not like you were going to tell me anything.”

  “Ever heard of privacy?”

  He chuckled. “Tell you what. Tit for tat. I’ll give you access to my record and you can read all about me.”

  “Not the same thing. You want me to read about you. You’re an attention whore.”

  “Sticks and stones,” he said. “But you earned your career, if the stuff in the file is accurate.”

  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The conversation was hitting far too close to home. “It’s not fiction, but lots of cops were as good as me and didn’t get a rocket ride up the ladder.”

  “You solved more crimes, arrested more criminals, and put more convictable cases in front of the D.A. than any other cop. Ray got so pissed about losing you for a reason. Partners like you don’t come along very often.”

  “He’s pissed because I didn’t stay on the force after Magicfall or come back during the Witchwar.”

  “He is a little high strung.”

  THE CLOSER THEY got to the estate, the more tense Kayla grew. She dreaded seeing Alistair again. Aside from letting people find out she was a shifter, it was the last thing on earth she wanted to do.

  “How long have you known Ray?” she asked to distract herself.

  “Met him about six months after Magicfall. I’d been trying to master my magic and was having more luck learning than some others. There was an attack—you remember the big fire across the river?”

  Kayla nodded. Who didn’t remember that? Most of everything between Highway 84 and the airport had been incinerated, including stones, cement, asphalt—everything. The fire had been mystical and had swept across the quarter like a punishment from God. Nobody caught up in it had survived.

  “You helped stop it?”

  “It flamed up just after sunset. Clearest night we’d had in weeks,” Zach said. “We were training out in Beaverton—all of us technomages. We were trying to teach ourselves and each other, experimenting a lot. We didn’t know shit about using our magic. All of a sudden, the sky lights on fire. The flames had to have been well over a hundred feet tall for us to see them all the way from there. They burned green and yellow. It was beautiful and terrifying.

  “We were watching, not sure what we were seeing or what we should do, when this cop car comes flying up with sirens wailing. Ra
y jumps out and says the fire’s an attack and we have to stop it before the city burns to the ground. We all piled into whatever car we could find. I caught a ride with Ray. But when we got there, we were like a bunch of headless chickens. I put together a Hail Mary plan, but it turned into an argument. Meanwhile the fire was eating the city. The damned thing was so hot that even a hundred yards away, the heat could melt your hair.”

  “So how did you stop it?”

  “Ray. He went drill sergeant on our asses. He’d had enough of listening to us argue. He came up with a pretty simple and elegant idea and asked if it could be done. Once we had the idea, it didn’t take us but a few minutes to figure out how to make it work, and then another hour to get us all into place. After that, it was a piece of cake.” He shook his head. “Not soon enough. A lot of people died that night. We should have worked faster. Shouldn’t have wasted time arguing.

  “Anyway, after that I got on board with the police department and helped out with the war whenever they needed me. We formed an association to network with technomages from other cities to share what we’ve learned. It’s helped. I wouldn’t be half as good as I am now if not for the stuff I learned through the TMA. That was Ray’s idea, too.”

  The fact that Ray had pulled the technomages together and helped them network across cities didn’t surprise Kayla. He was a take-charge guy and a problem solver. Nothing frustrated him more than running up against something he couldn’t fix.

  Kayla pissed him off a lot. A reluctant smile curved her lips. Poor guy. But some problems just couldn’t be solved.

  “He’s a good cop. Good man. Good friend to have in your corner.”

  “Have you got a point?” Her look was challenging.

  “Just saying. Word is you two used to be tight as a key and a lock. Shame to lose a friend like that.”

  “It is.”

  He darted a glance at her. “You going to do something about it?”

  “You know how it is. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together.” With that, she turned to look out the window again.