Worlds Collide (Magitech Book 1)

by Serena Lindahl

  Jenira smiled, but Cat wasn't fooled. Jenira was angry, sad, and scared. She phased from the bungalow, and Cat stared at the blank space her sister had just occupied. Maybe Rennert's appearance wasn't a good thing.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jenira

  Jenira phased to one of her favorite spots - behind a charm shop in the mage block of the Elysian Quarter. The ambient magic of the amulets and enchantments shrouded the surge of the phase's power. As she crept from the alley, she released seeking tendrils of magic. A couple Sniffers lived in the neighborhood and lingered at the edge of her perception, but they’d either never sensed her or didn’t tell anyone if they did. Individuals in the mage quarter usually protected their own. The only Sniffers she’d ever had an issue with were ones employed by the government specifically to hunt mages. The ones that lived here probably worked with one of their other abilities, or only found mages when they were being paid to do so.

  The beautiful mage quarter of Elysia was surrounded by tall fences and manned gates; the mages’ sponsors and employers protected their assets. The houses were simple and plain, but the yards overflowed with flowering vines, trees, and lush grass. No streets ran between the houses because vehicles weren't allowed in the community. When she needed to escape the suffocating presence of overwhelming tech that dominated the rest of the city, Jenira walked through the neighborhood. Today, though, an overwhelming atmosphere of sadness hovered over the community like a dark cloud.

  Jenira identified the victims' house when she turned the corner. Her heightened senses saw the darkness surrounding the house although externally it matched every other house on the block. The two-story white townhouse had light blue shutters and an open deck which boasted a quaint, two-person swing. Men in black suits prowled the front yard and surrounding area, but Jenira easily identified Rennert's masculine frame. She had grown so familiar with his magic that his power called to her, even when it was hidden from everyone else.

  The death in the house beckoned to her as strongly as Rennert’s magic. She approached on silent feet, swallowing her nervousness, but he sensed her immediately. He scanned her, and she forgot she hadn't covered her scar until his eyes lingered on it. Unlike others, Rennert studied it boldly while a heavy silence stretched between them. Finally, he nodded as if confirming a question no one asked.

  “Cavanaugh, I'd like you to meet Jen Dering. She's a PI I hired for the case.” The stout man beside Rennert sputtered, and Jenira turned her attention to him. The lower level techie wavered under her intense gaze.

  “I don't believe that's appropriate, Dr. Rennert,” he stuttered.

  Rennert pierced the man with an unforgiving glare. “This was my employee. This is the third household attacked in this city under your watch, even after I requested additional patrols. I reserve the right to bring in one of my own.” The police sergeant shrunk from Rennert's hard eyes and nodded reluctantly. Jenira imagined he was weighing the cost of denying her with the backlash from his superiors if he angered Rennert.

  She flashed her fake PI badge for appearances' sake and evaluated the other men milling about. She acknowledged Rennert's receptionist, Rock, and he nodded in return. His lack of surprise at her presence confirmed her initial suspicion that he was one of Rennert’s trusted men. Two low-level techie policemen chatted on the sidewalk, and Jenira dismissed them as inconsequential.

  Another man stood by the hedge separating this house from its neighbor's. The old mage's shoulders sagged with grief. He met her eyes and touched his index finger to his thumb, the sign hidden by his body, and Jenira inclined her head. The gesture showed solidarity among mages in enemy territory. She could use her abilities, and he wouldn't reveal her to the techies in charge. Most mages wouldn’t, but some retained a godlike view of their employers. The old man might even assist in shielding her from Sniffers although that remained his decision.

  She returned her attention to Rennert. “Show me.” He nodded curtly and led her towards the house.

  Her magic gauged the situation, attempting to ignore the encroaching death until forced to acknowledge it. The solid wards trembled as she stepped through them; they were strong enough to repel intruders with malicious intent but not cast to deter everyone who tried to pass. She paused in the protective circle and let the magic trickle over her, acting like she looked for footprints on the ground for the benefit of her non-magical audience. The disturbance in the shield was barely noticeable, but it appeared as if a small portion had been carefully modified to allow access. The information disturbed her because she’d never seen just part of a ward tampered with. They were usually sunk into the ground surrounding the houses and maintained a connected barrier.

  “Like the other cases, there is no forced entry,” Rennert pitched his voice low, and Jenira followed him across the white cobblestones. A standard amulet for protection and health hung on the front door, but it stank of stale magic, signifying a dead spell. Long-term enchantments were tough to deactivate and even harder to drain. She pushed open the front door, her hands encased in black leather. Because this was a mage murder, she doubted the authorities would use techies to examine forensic evidence, but Rennert might, and she didn't want to interfere with his findings.

  With her magic unfurled and her senses heightened, she paused inside the foyer. Death reached for her, clogging her nose and momentarily painting her vision black. Its presence crawled over her, and she tasted the tang of blood as she inhaled. Killing and facing death was preferable when her magic was restrained; it didn't disturb her when it came for her victims.

  “Six hours,” she whispered, noting how long the victims had been dead based on the thickness of the hovering cloud. Rennert remained a silent presence behind her.

  Opening her eyes, she searched the room. The area showcased the life of a peaceful, middle-income mage family. Pictures lined the walls; simple games, puzzles, and books filled the shelves, and a floral patterned couch was well worn from bodies settled into its embrace. The photos portrayed a smiling couple and a young boy, all of tribal descent. Her heart stuttered as she gazed at the child in the picture, so happy and so alive. She didn't look forward to seeing the child's body.

  “You don't have to enter the child's room,” Rennert murmured, appearing at her elbow. “It won't provide any more information than the parents’ room.” She met his amber eyes, noting the compassion and sadness reflected in their depths. A trickle of his magic seeped from him, and she wondered what he sensed. Every mage's power operated differently when not molded into spells and enchantments.

  She turned away from him with difficulty, tempted to relax into his comforting magic. Instead, she refocused on the room. The alien frequency she had sensed in the wards outside sizzled again; it reminded her of static interference. The disturbance carved a smooth path through the family room and up the stairs. Its single-mindedness and straight trajectory indicated it was traveled by only one person. She frowned. One individual against two mages and a child with no sign of struggle seemed impossible. Even a mundane could potentially overpower one attacker. The killer either had insight into the outcome or commanded strange tools she’d never encountered. She shivered in the balmy air, suddenly chilled.

  An image formed in her mind as her observations built, and she followed the frequency, pulled along like a bead on a string. Her senses catalogued everything, but nothing seemed out of place. The house was clean and well loved, haunted by a life cut short. A pile of books with ratty bookmarks between the pages sat on the coffee table, a half-finished jigsaw puzzle lay forgotten on a kid-sized table, and scraps of paper colored with crayons littered a brightly braided rug. The house held no television, radio, or electronics - a common lifestyle choice for mages employed in the tech industry. When they spent all day surrounded by technology, they preferred their homes as clean as possible. Vibrant plants hung from ceiling pots or basked in the morning sunlight, reminding her of Rennert's living area.

  Rennert followed as she climbed
the stairs and Jenira wondered if he'd searched the house before he called her or if he was letting her take the lead. Darkness pooled strongly at the top of the stairs and black smoke clogged the air, visible only to her magical senses. The darkest shadows hovered around the closest door which she guessed was the parents' room. She braced herself before looking inside.

  Two bodies sprawled in the queen size bed, death's mist curling and twining above them in a silent dance. The fog would fade the longer their mortal shells stayed in place, but at the moment, it shrouded them. The massive amount of blood impeded her vision with flashes of black and red. An indefinable scent, something unassociated with death, mingled with the overwhelming odor of bodily fluids and the dual scents almost elicited a gag response. She had encountered death numerous times; she had killed before, but the violent murder of innocents was so very different. The miasma which cloaked the room was sad and regretful. It hadn’t been their time.

  Jenira reminded herself to remain analytical as she examined the bodies. The man and woman didn't resemble the couple in the smiling photos. Their throats were sliced cleanly, and their eyes were wide open. The sightless orbs argued the media’s reports that the victims had been killed in their sleep, but there were no signs of a struggle. The sheets and blankets weren't rumpled, and she didn’t think the killer remade the bed. Fear dominated the corpses’ expressions, even in death, and dread speared through Jenira's chest. The strange frequency she associated with the murderer sang sharply within the room. If it were audible, it would have risen to an ear-splitting screech.

  She approached the bed, crouching several inches away from the dead bodies and forcing herself to breathe in deeply. Engaging her five natural senses enhanced her sixth magical sense. Rennert filled the doorway, his face set in stone but his eyes bright.

  “An enchanted blade killed them.” Her voice caught on the words. His brows rose, but he merely nodded. She turned her attention to the rest of the room. The image was identical to the ones Cat found on the web. The victim's blood scrawled “Mages – Go Home” on the wall. The letters were legible, a difficult feat considering the viscosity of blood and the amount necessary to write a lengthy message. She leaned closer to the wall, sniffing again. The words hadn’t been written, they had been spelled into place. A forensics team wouldn’t find any fingerprints or be able to identify a writing implement. She squared her jaw and slipped past Rennert into the hallway. After a quick, sad glance at the child's closed bedroom door, she descended the stairs.

  With Rennert hovering behind her, she entered the kitchen. His presence might have been irritating if it didn't lend her a calm she desperately needed. The family had eaten dinner and washed the dishes afterward. She peered into the refrigerator, a luxury almost every mage in the East enjoyed, even the most anti-tech ones. Some employed enchantments to keep their food cold, but it was a tricky spell in the humid south. She sniffed several of the dishes but couldn't detect any lingering traces of sedatives, drugs, or poison. Afterwards, she searched the trash and recycling bin methodically. Rennert leaned against the doorjamb, his thick arms folded across his chest.

  “You think they were drugged?”

  “I don't know. All the accounts I've read said they were asleep when the killer attacked, but these people were awake when they died. They didn't move at all, though, almost like they were paralyzed. I'm unaware of a spell that can paralyze both the body and the user's magic.” Her brows drew together as she continued the search. Unfortunately, she couldn't find anything to suggest the victims had been drugged. She scanned the house again and peeked into the backyard, but the path of the killer was single-minded. He entered the house through the front door, walked upstairs, and slit the throats of the parents and the child. Jenira considered looking at the boy's room but couldn't. The thought threatened to buckle her legs.

  “I'm done here.”

  “I'll take you outside. Will you follow me to the Rialto so we can talk about it? We can meet in my office.”

  Jenira's mind flashed to Cat. She wasn't on a live feed, but she wanted to record audio for her sister because Cat might catch something she hadn't. Her energy was also struggling after using her magic and being surrounded by death. She needed sunlight and living things to replenish.

  “Can we meet on the rooftop?”

  Rennert searched her face, noting her exhaustion. “The rooftop is acceptable. I might need several minutes to tie things up here. Do you have enough energy remaining to phase?”

  She flashed him a cocky smile despite the situation. “Yes.”

  Outside, the scene had changed. Rock was positioned down the sidewalk, his massive form blocking the view of a woman holding a camera. Jenira ensured her hood was up, careful not to turn her face towards the woman. The old mage still waited at the edge of the yard, and Jenira approached him.

  “Did you know the family that lived here?”

  “They were my neighbors.” A gnarly finger pointed to the house connected to the victims'. His eyes flashed from Jenira to Rennert. The distrust in his eyes told Jenira Rennert's magic was again masked. “I was home all night. I didn't see, feel, or hear anything.” Jenira sensed the truth in his words, accompanied by helplessness and anger.

  “We'll find the killer,” she told him, clasping his shoulder. He nodded and walked back to his house. Jenira walked to the charm shop, wary of lurking media.

  Safely on the Rialto's rooftop, Jenira sat next to a large orchid. Her fingers sifted through the dirt at the base of the flower, and she threw back her hood to welcome the sunlight on her face. The scent of the fertile earth reminded her of her childhood. She had helped her father plant vegetables in a small plot behind their cabin while Cat and their techie mother spent hours poring over schematics for a more efficient irrigation system. They grew the freshest vegetables she’d ever tasted. A smile lit her face as the memories and sunlight cleansed the death from her system. She lost track of time as she waited for Rennert, but sensed him the moment he stepped into the stairwell that led to the roof. She didn't move, clinging to the peace of the garden in her blood.

  She knew the exact moment he perched on the bench next to her and reluctantly opened her eyes. He caressed the broad leaf of the orchid plant, studying her face. The gentle movement of his fingers stroking the greenery convinced her he also begged strength from the plants.

  “I'm sorry, I'm sure that wasn't easy for you.”

  “I've seen lots of death, Rennert.”

  “Davin.”

  Her fingers stilled in the moist soil. “What?”

  “Call me Davin; my enemies call me Rennert.” He paused. “Death is more difficult when it's the unnatural murder of innocents.”

  “Yes, it is. What did he do for you, your employee?”

  “The woman worked for me, not her husband. She was working on one of the security Integration products.” A current of unease threaded his voice, and Jenira narrowed her eyes at him. He was keeping something from her, probably the true nature of the work his mages were employed on. When she had more energy, she would push him for more information.

  “What did you sense?”

  “Something strange,” she began. “I noticed it when we passed through the outer ward but not before. The ward was strong and well balanced; it should have repelled a malevolent intruder. The magic remained active but had been altered. The presence I sensed didn’t resemble human energy; instead, it almost felt tech-like. The frequency led directly to the upper bedroom, into the kid's room, and back out the same way.”

  “A frequency?” Rennert's eyes darkened.

  “I don't know how else to describe it. It lacked the cleanliness of magic, it was muffled, and it contained more energy than a mundane spirit. The killer could have been wearing or carrying something that transmitted interference, and that interference tampered with the ward's effectiveness and deadened the door amulet.”

  “I noted the amulet was broken, too. I figured it died without the owners’ knowledge.�
�

  “No, I think it was drained.”

  “Drained?” he repeated, his brows rising. Jenira shrugged, tamping down a surge of defensiveness. The scene had unnerved her with its strangeness, and her nerves still rang with discomfort.

  “Look, you asked for my help. I'm sorry if it's not the information you wanted.”

  “Relax, Jen, I'm not judging your detective skills. To the contrary, I'm impressed. I expected you to sense the same things I did, but you picked up far more. I believe what you're describing, but it's hard to fathom and fairly impossible. Magic can be confused by electronics, but this demonstrates specific intent. If someone has created tech which purposefully affects magic, it is extremely dangerous.” His voice died away in thought, and Jenira wished Cat were here to offer her opinion. “Speaking of drained, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m better now. Your garden is beautiful.” The living greenery sang to her, replenishing and nurturing her power. The tiny plot of dried grass behind her bungalow paled in comparison.

  “Thank you,” he replied with obvious pride. “Jen. Is that your real name?” She nodded. “Your magic is strong, versatile, and heavy in Spirit which is a rare inclination. Why aren't you ruling in the Western Territory?” Jenira tensed and forced a shrug, trying not to let on how strongly his question disturbed her.

  “Because I'm not.”

  He traced the length of her scar, and his fingers retained a spark of residual plant energy. Combined with his inherent magic, the light touch tingled powerfully upon her sensitive skin. No man had ever touched her scar.

  “Is this one reason?”

  She stood, and his hand fell away. His curiosity brought him too close to the truth. She felt as if he could read her entire history in the brightness of her eyes, and her heart thundered with fear.

  “If we plan to work together, you will need to trust me.”