Hatred fed him as it had been doing for two decades now. Two decades living to right the wrong that had been done to him and his mother. Dreaming of how he would do it. Of when he would do it. Two decades of plotting and learning and gaining power.
The time had finally come.
He’d activated his plan. There had been a few glitches along the way, of course, but that was to be expected. Nothing would stop him now.
The elements were the key to his success. He’d begun by drawing on water, had successfully harnessed its power. Tonight, air would become his next tool. In a matter of days he would control all four elements, after which his plan could be fully executed.
Then he would be invincible against any force that might come at him.
Then he would have his revenge.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The banging at the door grew louder. “Okay, okay,” Silke yelled, opening it.
Shelley stood there, mouth open. “You didn’t even ask who it was.”
Silke rolled her eyes. “Maybe because I knew. I can sense you, you know. And when you work at it, you can—”
“All right. Truce.”
Hmm, what’s that about? When Shelley reached out and gave her a big hug, Silke’s suspicions multiplied.
“Uh, oh, what’s up?”
“Can’t I show some sisterly affection without you getting suspicious?”
When Shelley pushed past Silke and threw herself on the unmade sofa bed, amidst rumpled sheets of night skies filled with stars, Silke knew what her twin was thinking—afternoon and she hadn’t made the bed. Or cleaned up the mess in the kitchen. Silke never had been the neatest person in the world, but she was comfortable in her colorful mess.
Shelley’s gaze stopped on her dresser-top altar but didn’t ask about it. Thankfully. On the floor next to the bed lay scattered books with words like magic and spell casting in the titles. Enough to make Shelley’s eyes pop open.
And for her to pick up one.
“Chaos Magic.” Shelley opened a page and began reading. “‘Ritual and empty-handed magic, including meditation, chanting, pain and orgasm.’ Interesting…” She looked up.
Silke gave her a fierce expression through lowered brows. “Since when are you interested in anything you can’t explain?”
Shelley clenched her jaw. “Since I keep running into it.”
She brought Silke up-to-date on the investigation. The thieves escaping the paddy wagon. Her run-ins with three of the four offenders. Tony Raymer’s inexplicable disappearance.
“And then there’s Sebastian,” she said. “He’s more than human.”
Silke’s chest hurt at hearing Shelley use Sebastian’s name. “He’s not a vampire.”
“I know that. But he’s tried getting into my head…and succeeded in getting into my dreams.”
“Your dreams?” Not liking that at all, Silke frowned at her sister. “I knew you were attracted to him.”
“Okay, so he’s hot—I’m not dead, but I am spoken for.”
And Silke wasn’t. It had been far too long since she’d met a man who turned her on like Sebastian. He was hot both in looks and in his abilities. Exactly the kind of man Silke could get into long term. He might be more than human, but she would know if he had evil in his heart.
Not seeming to notice her silence, Shelley went on. “There is a quality about Sebastian that’s odd, Silke. Jake sensed it too.”
“Jake? He’s helping you with this case?”
“Not with my permission. But he wanted to scope out Sebastian for himself. Jake is convinced Sebastian is more than human, maybe a real magician. A sorcerer of some sort.”
Silke flopped on the bed next to her twin. “And what do you think?”
“I’m afraid to consider it…and afraid not to.”
“I thought you were trying to bury the whole supernatural possibilities thing.”
“I was. And then weird things started happening again. I need to know what I’m up against. So how much do you know about the use of magic? What’s possible?”
Shelley really didn’t want to know. She’d never wanted to expand her mind the way Silke had. But she’d asked.
“It depends on whether the person using the magic is a human who has learned to control certain things…or if the person was born a sorcerer with natural abilities.”
As if determined to keep an open mind this time, Shelley asked, “As in?”
“Suggestion, though one doesn’t have to be a sorcerer to get into another person’s mind. We’re the proof of that.”
“We can’t make others do what we want, no matter how hard we try. And yet I saw Sebastian do it to Norelli. What else?”
“Telekinesis—moving objects with the mind.”
“But I saw you do that with fire when that vampire attacked me.”
“Because I cast a spell. Someone born to sorcery wouldn’t have to.”
Now Silke could tell Shelley was getting uncomfortable. Definitely out of her element. Silke almost felt sorry for her. Shelley was usually the one in control, the one who had to give her twin a helping hand. They’d been doing that dance for years, but things were changing—her world was changing—and Silke thought maybe it was time she gave back what Shelley had given her so freely over the years.
“How many of these spells can you do?” Shelley asked.
“A few. Making people tell me what I want to know—that would be useful in your line of work. Or making them forget a memory. But those who are born sorcerers can naturally do things I could never do. Like teleporting—going from one place to another just by thinking it. It takes a lot out of a sorcerer. All magic does, but this kind of magic drains them. They become vulnerable until they gas back up, so to speak.”
Okay, Shelley had come to the end of her open-mindedness. Silke could see it in her twin’s expression. She told herself to be patient, the way Shelley had been every time she’d gotten herself in a jam—mainly losing jobs and therefore needing money for rent and groceries. Not that Silke hadn’t paid back her sister when her finances improved.
“I could definitely buy into suggestion or other things that affect one’s mind,” Shelley muttered. “Like hypnosis. That part I could understand. But teleporting? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Whatever,” Silke said, her good will coming up short. Shelley would believe what she wanted. Or what she eventually saw for herself.
“Are you suggesting those thieves simply thought themselves out of the paddy wagon? No, wait, the door was open. But when Raymer went missing from his cell this morning, his door was still locked.”
“Someone could have unlocked the paddy wagon using telekinesis.” This was going to make her sister nuts. “And Raymer isn’t necessarily a sorcerer—he could have been teleported by someone else who is.”
“So you’re saying someone who considers himself a sorcerer can not only move himself through space but can take someone else with him?”
“Right. And not considers. Is.”
Shelley sighed. “Sorry, but you lost me, Silke. That I would have to see with my own eyes. Where do you get this stuff, anyway?”
Silke swallowed her disappointment. Her sister was never going to get it.
“Um, I do a lot of reading.”
Angry, Silke closed herself off from her twin. Not that she expected Shelley, always the pragmatic twin, to believe anything she told her. She’d come for some illumination, but apparently couldn’t accept Silke’s explanations. They would never be on equal footing. Shelley would always see herself as the responsible one, the one with all the answers.
As if to prove the point, Shelley said, “You need to be careful, Silke. Someone out there is dangerous and somehow it’s connected to Sebastian. One woman is already dead and if the kind of magic you’re talking about is involved…” She tried not to cringe but wasn’t too successful. “Maybe you ought to find a new gig.”
Silke didn’t try to hide her irritation. “It’s not Sebasti
an, Shell, he’s not a murderer.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I trust my sixth sense far more than you trust yours. I know things you would never believe.”
Shelley looked tempted to ask for more explanations, but in the end, she let it go. Good thing, because if her twin’s sarcastic side came out, they were done for the day.
Instead Shelley asked, “So what is Sebastian up to?”
“Getting justice for someone who was screwed by the system.”
“That’s not what I mean. How about with me? Why is he trying to play me?”
“Maybe he just likes you.” Silke’s stomach clutched at the thought. She hated that Sebastian might be attracted to her twin. That was a new one for her.
“It’s more than that, Silke. Everything is too interconnected. Sebastian chose a case I worked on. He hired you to help him get that justice.”
“So I can only get a job because I’m related to you, Miss Paranoia?”
“I didn’t say that, but in this case it seems likely, don’t you think? I don’t much believe in coincidence. And being paranoid has served me well in my profession.”
“Yeah, let’s talk about that. You’re the one who faces danger in your work every day. It really frightens me when I stop to think about it. The violence…weapons…” Silke shuddered. Using magic seemed innocent by comparison. “I don’t know how you deal with it. I sure couldn’t. Are you going to give up being a cop if I ask?”
“My work is who I am.”
“Well, maybe mine is too.”
They were at an impasse. Nothing new there. Shelley got to her feet.
“If you won’t quit, Silke, then be really, really careful. Keep your eyes open.”
“Better yet, I’ll keep my senses open. That’s a lot more effective. And I’ll let you know if I sense anything wrong.”
If Shelley pushed her any further, Silke would show her the door. But she knew her twin wanted her cooperation. Her eyes and ears. And she couldn’t stand to have bad feelings between them. Shelley was the other half of herself, the half she couldn’t be. Sometimes Silke thought they should have been born one well-rounded person instead of two polar opposites.
“So when is Sebastian’s next escape?” Shelley asked.
Silke balked for a moment, then spilled. “Tonight, okay. I just got word before you arrived. I need to be getting ready, by the way.”
“Where’s the performance?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Silke…”
“He won’t tell us until we’re all together, ready to leave.”
Shelley nodded. “Basically what he told me the other night. When you find out, let me know.”
“If I have the time to call.”
“You don’t have to use a phone,” Shelley reminded her.
“So station SHELL will be open for broadcast?”
“I’m tuning in right now.”
That was certainly unusual, Shelley volunteering. She must have some serious doubts about what might go down tonight.
“Wait a minute.” Silke picked up her copy of Chaos Magic and offered it to her sister. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to take a look on your own.”
Shelley took the book in trade for a big hug. Silke couldn’t help herself. The stiffness left her body as she hugged her sister back. No matter what happened around them, they would always be there for each other.
Chapter Thirty
I left while the going was good. Deciding to stop at home to feed the cats, I took care of myself, as well. An hour power nap followed by a quick shower and a nuked dinner and I was ready to rock and roll.
I left the book behind. Maybe I would get to sleep in my own bed again tonight. I’d save Chaos Magic for a little bedtime reading.
The sun was setting as I drove back to the Area 4 office, so traffic was light. Thinking about what came next, I felt at loose ends. Norelli was going to stake out Julie Martin’s wake, but joining him held no appeal for me. I wanted to solve this case. Maybe the cop I’d given the black book to had gotten some results. A lead for me to follow.
After all, how could I write up a teleporting incident when I didn’t believe it was possible? Even if I believed, I wouldn’t dare share anything supernatural with anyone official. I’d be laughed out of the department. Or sent back into therapy.
No way was I going through that again.
I’d been playing a dangerous game both privately and professionally, and I had no interest in coming clean. I knew about the underground supernatural element in the city—Jake included—but I wasn’t talking. The job wasn’t the only reason I chose to remain close-mouthed. I’d always done my own thing, but never in a way that made fingers point. I wanted to blend in, to get lost in the crowd, and yet be special in a way that didn’t garner attention. I wanted to be the best damn cop on the force, but didn’t want my name in the papers.
The waning moon on the horizon reminded me of Casey Brogan, made me wonder if there was any way to find him. Leads to the murder were getting thinner.
Back at the office, I parked, and as I left the car, I reiterated my mantra: anything woo-woo stayed between me…and me. Well, and maybe Silke or Jake.
“Good evening to you, Detective Caldwell.”
I froze, telling myself I’d only conjured the voice with the Irish lilt because I’d been thinking of Casey Brogan.
“How would the investigation to the first murder be going?”
Slowly I turned and faced the little man in tweed. “First murder?” I echoed.
“You must admit I gave you good intel, right? So ken I expect compensation from now on?”
“Why did you say first murder?”
“Now would you be thinking that’s it? Once done and it’s over?” He clucked. “For shame, Detective. You’re not seeing the grand scheme of things.”
“What do you know about another murder?”
“Do we have a deal?”
“We have a deal. Now tell me what you know.”
“Only what I see in my visions.”
“And you’ve had another.”
His expression sober, Brogan nodded. Then his eyes glassed over and rolled back. With a long, bone-chilling moan, he whispered, “I see a great height…feel metal cutting at my wrists…and then the ground comes up fast…”
Another moan, more of a wail, slithered right through my flesh. Brogan held his hands behind his back as if secured.
Metal…cuffs?
Height?
As in another escape?
My whole body buzzed with adrenaline. I didn’t want to believe him, but he’d been right the last time.
“Who is the victim?” I asked.
“A man…”
“Can you see him? Describe him?”
He shook his head. “I ken feel him…the terror roiling through him as he knows he’s going to die.”
“No one is going to die if I have anything to say about it. The place. What does it look like?”
His eyes glassed over again, but no sound effects accompanied his next prediction. “Tall buildings…a far piece to the pavement.”
“And the man’s on top of one of these buildings?”
“I see winged creatures…” Brogan blinked and added, “That’s all I ken tell you.” He sighed deeply. “I would be wanting that payment now.”
Winged creatures…
Distracted, trying to figure out what that meant, I said, “When the lead pans out.”
“I need to be meeting my living expenses.”
My antennae went on alert. “Where exactly would that be? An apartment? A house?”
We locked gazes but he offered nothing.
“What if I have to reach you?” I asked.
“I’ll give you my cell number.”
“A banshee with a cell phone?”
Brogan sighed and straightened his lapels. “You have to stop playing to stereotype, Detective. Banshees can be as modern as any other creature.”
“How did you know my father?” I asked.
“Now what makes you think I did?”
“The first time, you said my father would have believed you.”
Brogan shrugged. “Your da and I were of an acquaintance.”
“Are you saying you were his snitch?”
“Snitch. Now that’s an ugly word.”
“Informant, then. Have you done this before? Is that why you say he would have believed you.”
“Your Da would’ve believed me because he was a sensitive. Like you.”
That made me start. Not only did I not want to believe I was a sensitive, as he called it, but my father?
Not wanting to go there, I changed the subject back to the case.
“You asked if I thought it would be just one.” Hearing a noise behind me, I glanced away from Brogan for a second. Just a kid with his dog. “Are you saying the new murder is connected to the first?”
But when I looked back for confirmation, the self-proclaimed banshee had melted into the twilight.
Leaving me with a big creepy feeling I didn’t want to acknowledge. Silke’s and my psychic connection was enough for me. But several times, Silke had indicated I could be more if only I would let myself. I’d put it to theatrics…but had I been fooling myself all these years?
Enough.
Back to business, to a possible second murder tonight.
Wanting to know where the next performance would take place, I wasted no time—I called Silke but was immediately forwarded to her voice mail. Her cell was off, which meant she was probably already working, setting up for Sebastian’s next escape.
Only one way to find out where that would be. I closed my eyes and concentrated, put all my energy into connecting with my twin. Before I could ask, Where are you? I saw what she saw…and knew exactly where the next escape would take place.
Giant owls topped the Harold Washington Library—they had to be the winged creatures of Brogan’s vision. If he were correct, the escape wasn’t the only thing taking place there. The murder would, as well.
Hot Trick (A Detective Shelley Caldwell Novel) Page 12