Murder Casts Its Spell

by Margaret C. Morse

  A door closed, and footsteps sounded on the marble floor. Chris, who could see the hallway from his position, smiled and waved. "Hey, Jake."

  "Hey, Chris."

  I turned around because I recognized the voice. Jake Herz, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, smiled at us. The red star jewel in his left ear announced his status as a Master Wizard. Like Chris, he wore a blue shirt decorated with a heart crossed by a jagged line. His brown eyes widened at the sight of me. "Petra, you here in magic land?"

  "Chris and I are sharing a wizard client."

  A door slammed. A woman wearing the same blue shirt half tucked inside jeans paused and latched on to Jake's arm. "Dr. Herz, I need to talk to you."

  Jake detached himself, shifting a khaki backpack higher on his shoulder. Mysterious lumps bulged from within it, and a knifepoint protruded from the bottom. Trailed by the woman, he headed upstairs.

  I'd used Jake twice as an expert on treatment issues for wizards because I liked his down-to-earth approach. As director of a treatment center for dysfunctional wizards, he spoke with authority about magical disorders.

  "What's going on upstairs?" I said.

  "I let Jake use the space for his recovery group for dysfunctional wizards."

  "And the shirt?"

  "I'm apprenticing under him to be a Master Wizard. That's the shirt for his guild."

  That required a huge mental gulp on my part. Chris had been handy at doing magic for everyday chores, but Master Wizards underwent extensive training and passed stringent tests. They also policed the magic community for violations of the wizard code not covered by criminal laws. "I've always known you as a defense attorney, getting bad guys off. Now you're going to be an enforcer? That's scary."

  "That's another change Janna had to deal with."

  I tried to remember where we were on the update. "What went wrong with the plan to make you a more complete human being?"

  He rubbed the day-end stubble on his cheeks. I loved that scratchy sound. It reminded me of the long nights when we'd studied together in law school.

  "It worked supremely well." Chris's face sagged. "That was the problem. I went to a very charismatic personal counselor. She challenged me to look inside myself and do what felt right."

  One man and three women, each wearing the blue shirt, walked by, waving at Chris. Another man, clad in a shirt featuring a peace symbol in a rainbow swirl, hurried around them.

  "Hey," I said, "I swear I just saw Keegan's brother, Ira, go by. Wearing a tie-dyed shirt, wherever he got that from."

  "Sounds like Ira. He's doing so well he assists Jake."

  Doing well? Keegan said Ira'd recently had a breakdown. Before I asked about Ira, I needed to finish catching up with Chris. "Okay, so you went to individual counseling. What about marital counseling?"

  "Counseling helped her to articulate her alienation and thus her move to San Diego to find herself."

  "It's not fair." I wanted his life to make sense. "You did everything she asked of you, but she still left." I paused until another clump of blue-shirt-clad dysfunctionals hurried by. Footsteps pounded on the floor above. Something was being dragged across the room. The excited chatter made me restless. I searched for a bottle of extra-strength aspirin in my purse. "So much change. I can barely absorb it. And, we need to talk about Keegan. Could I have some water?"

  "Would coffee be better?" Chris got up.

  "Coffee would be wonderful. I think I forgot to eat."

  Chris pointed his index finger at a Mr. Coffee machine on the credenza. With a gurgle, drops of coffee appeared in the carafe. "I'll get you a snack."

  I waited till he was gone before I removed the carafe and replaced it with a coffee mug. Watching it fill, I realized the chatter upstairs had faded out. A single voice droned on, accompanied by periodic groans or laughs. When the mug was half full, I risked scalding myself to swallow the two aspirin. I leaned back in the chair with my eyes closed and considered the new information about Chris. He was too philosophical about being dumped. Why couldn't he say he was mad and hated his soon-to-be ex? Reflections about my messy split with Eduardo made me squirm. It would be good to get back to business, a nice clean criminal case. I strained to hear the current speaker upstairs, a low man's voice rumbling along.

  "I hope this is still one of your guilty pleasures."

  Chris had placed a brownie in front of me. I groaned with anticipatory pleasure. He popped open a diet cola and watched me munch contentedly.

  The coffee was all the better for the taste of chocolate in my mouth. "Here's how I see it. We both got dumped. In the last year, you've developed your inner life and improved your magic skills. I'm as emotionally stable as I was before Eduardo, no better."

  "It's not a competition, Petra."

  From the second floor, I heard applause, followed by "Way to go" and "Cool."

  Overcome by curiosity, I got up and listened at the bottom of the stairs. A woman yelled, "Let him try again."

  A man called out, "Nailed it." Cheers.

  Returning to the conference room, I felt the energy jolt from the caffeine and chocolate. "It just hit me. When you said dysfunctional wizards, did you mean people who can't control their magic are upstairs creating havoc?"

  "It's an aftercare group. They go around a circle and do spells to show they can use magic correctly. Jake, as their leader, takes care of any magic malfunctions."

  "Let's get down to it. You know I'm a good lawyer, right?"

  "Correct."

  "You know I've handled complex felony cases short of first-degree murder?"

  "You did an excellent job on the closing argument in the Rogers case."

  I flashed back to the crowded courtroom, mostly lawyers to watch the show. "You weren't in the courtroom."

  "I listened to the audio with Judge Rawlins's secretary in the office."

  The ceiling reverberated with thumps. My heart beat harder too. Knowing he had listened to my closing made the experience bigger, better.

  "We're good on point number one. Point number two, the client wants me on his case."

  "Keegan can confirm it when I meet him tonight."

  "Point number three, I want to second chair this case with you because I owe Keegan. He's my employee, my colleague, and my friend. He's had my back more times than I can count."

  Chris shut his eyes, scrunching down his brows. "You need to do this to finish healing."

  I waited until he opened his eyes. "Don't try psychobabble on me."

  "You need to go through this experience, have it tear you apart, and come out whole."

  I remembered Bear's words. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger.

  "Keegan's in terrible trouble. I want to be part of the team helping him. It's not like I regard this as a chance merely for personal growth."

  "Full disclosure—you won't be shocked to learn that some have accused me of being domineering."

  "That's because you're a control freak." I finished the coffee, although I didn't need more caffeine. I found alpha males stimulating. "I consider it a challenge. I'd like to see you dominate me."

  "A hypothetical. If you don't like this new person I've become, then what?"

  "I keep working on Keegan's case, no matter how difficult you are, because his life is at stake. Deal?"

  I stood and held out my hand. We shook firmly.

  A woman's voice rose above the murmur upstairs. "I have conquered my inner demons." Cheers.

  Chris met my gaze. "You've changed more than you know, Petra. There's a lean greyhound look about you. You're more alive than ever."

  I resumed my seat. "Let's get down to business. What do you know about the case?"

  "The uncle big-pictured it for me. At first when their child was born, Felicia and Keegan seemed to get along okay. But when the kid was six months old, Felicia called the cops and accused Keegan of using a spell to get her to sign the custody agreement."

  I opened my briefcase and handed him a file. "Here's the poli
ce report on the illegal spell charge. The cops did a cursory investigation, never established a reason why Felicia delayed so long to file charges."

  His brows drew together as he scanned the report and a brief summary I'd prepared about the message from Ira that he'd talked Felicia into dropping charges. I also included Keegan's comment that Ira had some kind of breakdown after he saw Felicia.

  Chris tossed the papers down, cocking his head. From above came the sound of voices raised in a group hum. "Do you know his brother Ira well?"

  "Not really." When he dropped by the office to visit Keegan, Ira rarely spoke, but radiated suppressed power, like a hungry wolf. "I know he designs the costumes and sets for the family circus. Keegan has hinted that he has a history of mental instability and drug use."

  "Ira's perfected the role of tortured bad boy, but recently he's done well enough to assist Jake at the meetings upstairs. We'll grab Ira as he leaves and arrange an appointment. Rusty will help you with interviews."

  I'd known his assistant Rusty for years at my gym. "I'd love to work with her."

  "She'll be the liaison for us."

  I raised my voice over the increased volume of the dysfunctional wizards. "You know how crazy stuff comes up when a big case first breaks. Let me in on it."

  Upstairs, a man screamed, "The demon has escaped! Everybody out!"

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MONDAY EVENING

  Men and women in blue shirts thundered down the stairs. They jostled each other to get outside. At the end of the pack, Ira followed and closed the door.

  Chris called out, "What's up?"

  Jake stopped halfway down the steps, the backpack slung over one shoulder. In his left hand he held a crystal ball. Orange flames swirled within it. "Sorry for the stampede. Nervous group. They panicked when our newest member accidentally released her inner demon." He lifted the ball. "I have the demon in containment." He joined us on the marble tile in the foyer and nodded at Chris. "You'll help me with the demon dissolution?"

  Chris squared his jaw. "Of course."

  Ira opened the front door, his arm around a woman who sobbed, her face distorted. Blue-shirted wizards clustered behind them. "Jake," Ira said, "we need your help as a healer."

  Jake deposited the orange ball on the receptionist's desk. From his backpack, he retrieved a baggie of plant material, a white plate, a water bottle, and a yellow sticky pad. "Ira, you assist Chris with the demon while I do the healing." He grasped the woman's hand and led her outside.

  Ira's brown hair, shaved close on the sides, was spiky and uncontrolled on top. Dark, thick eyebrows made him look broody. Unlike his brothers Paul and Keegan who were slender but tightly muscled, Ira had big shoulders and bulging arm muscles. A scar marred the knuckles of his right hand. Half a head taller than I, he had a nose that jutted off center, as if someone had knocked it aside.

  "My uncle texted me that you two are going to be Keegan's lawyers."

  Chris put the sticky pad on the plate, which was in the middle of the desk. "That's right, we're the team. After we dissolve the demon, we need to arrange an appointment with you." He flicked a glance at me. "Maybe you should leave, Petra. Demon dissolving can be difficult to watch. What do you think, Ira?"

  Ira's amber eyes widened on me. I focused on the gold flowing around the pupils, an inner light that beckoned to me until I remembered the strange gaze of Ernie the homeless wizard.

  I blinked to break the spell of Ira's eyes. I didn't like it that Chris was bossing me around. "I might find it interesting. I'll stay."

  Ira opened the baggie and sprinkled broken twigs and leaves in a circle behind the desk. The gold in his eyes glittered. "Promise to follow my orders."

  "As long as you don't ask me to do anything illegal or immoral."

  Ira removed a cylindrical, pen-sized object from his jeans pocket and shook it. A wand appeared, carved with runes and studded with red stones.

  "Petra," he said, "you stand in the circle. Chris will put up a shield to protect you."

  I stepped inside the circle and caught a whiff of lavender from the twigs and leaves. Chris raised his arms up and down along the circle. Seeing him put up a shield for my protection brought home the possible danger in this ritual. I tried to keep my face blank, but something must have shown in my expression.

  "Don't worry. Ira has never screwed this up," Chris said. "This is the fourth or fifth time Ira and I have taken care of a demon for Jake."

  "Just so I don't panic, what's going to happen?"

  "Ira will put the ball of fire on the yellow sticky pad. After it ignites, he'll douse the whole thing with the water. The smoke that arises will complete the demon's transformation into air, the fourth element. It's over when the smoke disappears."

  From paper, a wood product of the earth, to fire to water to smoke. The poor demon would ignite his own funeral pyre. "You're killing it?"

  Chris shifted. "Ira's releasing a tormented force to the freedom of the living air."

  "He's killing it."

  Bushy brows lowered, he scowled at me. "It's not a legal proceeding. It's a healing ritual. Returning the demon to the four elements gives it peace."

  "Time to start," Ira said. "Petra, stay inside the circle. Some demons resist when I start to dissolve them." He placed the orange ball on top of the yellow sticky pad. The paper smoldered. "Join in the chant."

  "Mother of Mercy, release this demon." Their combined voices echoed off the tile and filled the foyer. I chanted, the first time I directly addressed the Mother of Mercy. Would she hear and give me a sign?

  The pad erupted in flames. A scream, abruptly cut off, made me start. "The demon, it's being burned alive!"

  Chris stopped chanting. "It's not alive. Those are sound effects. Don't assume because you have feelings, it does too."

  I riveted my eyes on the flame. Ira lifted the bottle of water and unscrewed the cap. A howl filled the foyer, and the sound stabbed my insides. Before Ira could pour the water, the flames formed into a ball of fire that soared toward me. I threw up my hands as it bounced off the shield Chris had created. I hadn't believed an invisible barrier really existed until I saw it deflect the fireball. The second time the ball hit the shield, sparks flew out. Instinctively, I flinched, lost my balance, and stumbled out of the circle into the bookcase next to the desk. When the ball headed toward me again, I grabbed an antique law book. Batting the fireball, I whacked it straight at Ira, who impaled it on the wand. I dropped the smoldering law book.

  Ira capped his hand over the flame. Uncurling his fingers, he displayed a puff of smoke that rose off his palm and whimpered.

  Chris grabbed my elbow when I stumbled forward. I leaned against him, glad of his support. The house creaked, and the phone shrilled. The outside world beckoned.

  Chris ignored his phone. "Are you okay?"

  I pulled away from him and rubbed my shoulder where it had bumped into the bookcase. "What went wrong?" I had the sensation I'd awakened from a nightmare. "Okay, I get it that the demon escaped Ira and attacked me. But why did it happen?" My hands tingled, the same as when Ernie had tried to bless me. I didn't want to relive that experience. "This ritual doesn't seem right. There should be some way to ask the demon's permission, not just assume we have to kill him."

  Chris raised his right brow halfway up his forehead. "The demon is a natural force, like ocean waves. We believe it can't make decisions. This is the first time the dissolution has gone so wrong. I've never seen one attack someone before." He turned to Ira. "Was this demon an unusually powerful one?"

  "No, it was the average inner demon, contained at first."

  "It screamed," I protested, "like it was alive."

  "A wailing saxophone is not a life form," Ira said. "You heard angry, fiery energy, animated by magic that escaped from a distressed woman. I'm an empath. If the demon had emotions, I would've sensed them. No, something made my magic malfunction."

  Chris gave me a quick look. "The only difference between tonight's
demon dissolving and others we've done is Petra's presence. Therefore—"

  Still shaken from being attacked by the inner demon remnant, I didn't like being falsely accused. Like Keegan. "All I did was stand there and chant with you."

  "You were deeply affected by the demon's wails. When I touched you just now, I felt a charge of something," Chris said. "I'm going to check with Jake about what happened." He went out the front door.

  Annoyed that Chris had to report on me to Master Wizard Jake, I turned to Ira. "Touch me. See if I give off sparks."

  He wrapped long tanned fingers around my wrist. I liked the lightness of his touch, the delicate way he felt for my pulse. A snake tattoo swirled around his forearm. Each precisely defined green and gold scale shimmered. On the back of his hand, the snake's head twisted around, its tongue extended.

  "No sparks." He released me. His full lips softened. "A heavy heart beat. Don't worry. Chris isn't trying to get you in trouble. He's a very logical person. He wants to understand what happened."

  His being an empath sank in. It's considered rude to tell an empath not to read your mind since their ethical code prohibits them from reading minds without permission. I'd found it was best to believe they followed the code. Otherwise, I'd go crazy wondering if they knew my thoughts. Ira knew my heart beat. For the first time, I felt a connection to Ira. Before I could speak, Chris reentered with Jake.

  "Petra." Jake loomed over me. "Has anyone put a spell on you recently that went wrong?"

  He couldn't possibly know about Ernie. "Why are you asking?"

  "Magic from a mismanaged spell could linger and interfere with other magic."

  Unnerved at the idea Ernie's spell remained, I told the truth. "Today a wizard with mental health issues tried to bless me. I felt weird right after it happened."

  Ira intervened. "Another explanation is that his spell awakened latent magic in you."

  If I had latent magic, it would be as if I'd grown a new limb. "What should I do?"

  Jake pulled a card out of the front pocket of his backpack. "Report to me any sign you're doing magic. At once."

  I flexed my fingers, remembering how Ernie's spell made my arms tingle. "The effects of a dysfunctional spell won't last forever, will they?"