Given how much pain my hand was in and the fun beet red color it was turning, I was not in the mood to walk or get a cab. I just wanted to get home, get some healing salve slathered all over it, and go to bed. Maybe after shoving a package of pizza rolls in my face. I followed Conor to his car.
“What was that mage doing there?” I asked, as I buckled my seat belt. “Other than lurking in the trees like a creep, I mean.”
“You said the circle was open when you arrived,” Conor said mildly, as he buckled his own belt, trying to keep it from sticking around the sore part of his midsection that had been hit.
“You think I caught him in the act?” I asked, horrified. That hadn’t even occurred to me, mostly because if Penelope saw the circle, I assumed who ever set it up had finished with it much earlier and left it open because they were reckless. Not because it was still in use.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps it was a circle he wanted to keep open and he was hanging behind to guard it.”
“Then why did he wait to attack? I was there for a good fifteen minutes before you showed up.” If the guy was protecting the circle, he would have stepped in the moment I’d approached it, and definitely would have jumped out when I actively destroyed it. Was he just coming back to check up on it and happened to arrive when Conor did? Had he followed Conor?
“I don’t know,” Conor said, irritation plain, though I hoped it was aimed more at the situation than at me. “It’s a shame he got away. If we’d caught him, we could find out.” His words dripped with irritation.
I glared at him. “Not my fault. I tried. Dude was fast.”
Conor’s expression softened. “I know. I don’t blame you. I blame myself for not arriving with sufficient backup. We’re understaffed but this case needs to be a priority.” I gave him a bit of side-eye. “So does the robbery case. Anyone who can knock out Rita Howell’s wards is a danger to all of us.”
“Fair enough,” I said.
Conor shifted to start the car and winced in pain before backing the car out of the spot. “Did you smell brimstone back there?” he asked.
Cold rushed into my veins. There was no way he’d seen me flinging demon fire… right? “I didn’t really notice,” I said, my voice nearly cracking.
He considered that and then gave a slight shrug. “Perhaps the mage is using demon magic.”
I exhaled. “Maybe. That would explain his rapid-fire spell power.”
Conor nodded and pulled onto the street. He drove in silence and I listened to my heart trying to break through my ribcage.
Not gonna lie, I was a little disappointed when, for the second time that night, Conor dropped me off at my apartment building. I’d sort of been hoping he’d take me back to his place and let me help rub that healing potion on his wounds. And then we could discuss our next course of action.
Instead, he pulled up to my building and this time, didn’t get out. Just watched as I unlocked the door and went inside.
Penelope was in the lobby. She had real clothes on this time, black shorts and a tank top with a loose, see-through black button-up over it. “Is he trying to get rid of you?” she asked, nodding at the front door.
“What?” I asked, still a bit jangled over the fight. The adrenaline was fading but it left me feeling shaky and a little tired.
“That Watcher. It’s the second time he’s left you on the doorstep this evening. That usually indicates a desire to be rid of someone.”
I snorted. “He was just giving me a ride. He showed up at the park.”
Penelope smiled faintly. “He likes you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t know that. In fact, I think he’s tolerating me because he realizes I’m damn good at my job and he needs all the help he can get.”
She tilted her head sideways and then looked me up and down. “You look like crap.”
“Thanks. Yeah. I know.” My hair was flying wildly around my face, wind-blown and messed up from all of the gymnastics involved in dodging the magic. My face felt hot, my muscles ached, and there were grass stains on my jeans.
“I’ll buy you a drink,” Penelope said, opening the door to the building’s lobby.
Never one to turn down a free drink, I went with her to New Moon Tavern. We sat in a booth off to the side and ordered beers. Penelope preferred dark, sweeter ales and I ordered my usual IPA along with a plate of chili cheese fries.
The beer was cold and sharp on my tongue. A few sips later, I felt the tension melting out of my muscles.
“Did you find the summoning circle?” Penelope asked.
“Yeah. And it still had a demon inside of it.”
Penelope raised an eyebrow. “There was no one around when I saw it…”
I gave her a condensed version of the story, including how I’d used my “special” magic to get rid of the punk mage. Penelope knew about my demon magic because she’d caught me using it not long after I’d shaken the possession. At the time, I was still figuring out exactly how much magic the demon had left behind and how to use it and Penelope, being able to fly, caught me out. We both assumed the magic was a temporary thing and would fade in time. It hasn’t. And lucky for me, Penelope doesn’t trust the Magic Council any more than I do, and didn’t turn me in.
It was nice having one person who knew my secret, though sometimes I wondered just how trustworthy she was.
“Hopefully Conor believes it was the mage using brimstone,” I said, taking a swig of beer. “The mage was definitely using demon magic of some kind. Pretty brazen, especially in a park like that.”
“You should be careful, Dani. Using your…” She lowered her voice and leaned forward, “special magic near one of them is unwise.”
No shit.
“I’ll be glad when this case is over. Working with a Watcher is a bad idea.” Even a sexy Watcher like Conor. It wouldn’t matter how sexy he was if he was condemning me to death or life in the dungeon. “He is handsome though.”
My chili fries arrived and I dug in with gusto.
“You should date him,” Penelope said, stealing a fry smothered in chili.
I nearly choked. “Who, Conor? The Watcher who would turn me in the second he learned the truth?” I shook my head. “The one who you just said I shouldn’t even work with?”
“He likes you.” She said it as if that fact overruled all the others. And I wasn’t so sure she was even right on that score. He was tolerating me, because it was good for the Watchers to show a prominent witch family they’d respect their wishes and were doing everything they could to solve Marcus’ murder. And, like I’d told her, he was hard up for help. The Watchers were spread too thin. I was another warm body doing the leg work. “I did not say you should marry him. Only that a quick courtship might help you out of your rut.”
I leveled my gaze at her. She smiled and stole another fry.
“I’m not in a rut,” I said, though technically, I hadn’t dated anyone in a long time. My last stint at dating lasted a few months until all of the bad dates burned me out on the prospect. If finding love meant making awkward small talk with random guys and navigating a minefield of expectations, maybe I was better off alone.
By the time we were finished, the beer and exhaustion caught up with me and despite the early hour (barely midnight), I was ready to crawl into bed.
Solving Marcus’ murder and figuring out where these punk mages were coming from would have to wait until I got some healing salve on my hand and recovered some of my strength.
Chapter 14
“So, you don’t have anything new to tell me,” Savannah said haughtily, fingers clutching the handle of her purse as if she might leap out of her seat and storm out the door at any second. She had shown up as promised at my office to get an update on her brother’s case, and I had pathetically little to offer her.
“I have some leads. It appears there’s something larger going on here that Marcus may have been involved in,” I said, leaning back against my chair. Savannah clutched her purse strap har
der and shifted in her seat. I hurriedly added, “Or got caught up in. I’ll have more for you soon.”
She glowered for a moment but finally loosened her grip on her purse and pulled out some cash. Then she put it back in her purse.
I frowned at her.
“Here’s the deal,” she said. “I’ll triple your nightly rate if you solve this in the next three days. But I’m not paying you until the case is solved.”
I opened my mouth to argue—there was a reason I usually insisted on a small upfront fee, and that was because once you’d done the job, a lot of people got reluctant to pay up. After all, they no longer needed you. But Savannah was wealthy and had money to burn. Besides, she’d already fronted me a little and who wanted to argue with a pay increase? Especially one that large.
“Why the rush job?” I asked instead.
“Things are… tense right now. My family is on edge and the rumors are unkind.” She sniffed. “I want to quell the fantastical lies about how Marcus died and to do that, I need the truth.”
“I thought no one knew of Marcus’ passing,” I said.
She sighed. “Word got out last night. Frankly, I think the Watchers let it slip to create a distraction from the Howell robbery.”
My pulse raced. The Howell robbery was scary, sure, especially to the wealthy, prominent witches who had plenty of wealth to protect and who relied on their wards to keep themselves and their possessions safe. But it hardly felt like a scandal big enough the Watchers would want people to think about other things.
“That’s strange,” I said, thinking out loud.
“It’s frustrating to have people saying my brother was consorting with demons, but I suppose everyone would have learned the circumstances of his death sooner or later.” Savannah stood, pulling her purse onto her shoulder. “I look forward to hearing your next update.”
“I’ll let you know when I have something.”
She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “And you might want to put on some makeup or something. You look like hell.”
And with that, Savannah Goldsmith swept out of my office with the regality of a queen.
I got up and glanced in the small mirror in my office bathroom. In fairness to Savannah, I did look pretty bad. Despite going to bed early last night, I had bags under my eyes and my skin was dry from being exposed to the circle. If I had money left after bills and groceries, I really needed to invest in a good moisture routine for my face.
I did a few quick searches on my laptop, scanning the local police blotter as well as a local self-styled paranormal investigator’s blog for any hints of where I might find trouble. When looking for troublemakers, my tried and true strategy was to follow the breadcrumbs. But there were no leads online. I’d have to try it the old-fashioned way: threatening my sources until someone coughed up something interesting.
I put on my leather jacket over the purple t-shirt and jeans I’d thrown on this morning and pulled my brown hair into a loose bun to keep it out of my way. I grabbed my sword, put it in its sheath, and headed out.
The green fireball came at me so fast I froze, stunned. I managed to shake myself at the last second and duck, letting the ball of magic smack into the gray building. It left a black scorch mark. Silas was going to be pissed.
I looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the attack. It was almost seven but it was still light out and there were people everywhere: walking dogs, hurrying to their bus or car, driving by.
I scanned the street until I spotted a guy in a shredded leather vest with green hair and enough facial piercings to make magnets a hazard. I sucked in a breath. Mohawk, from the brimstone deal in the park.
He wasn’t looking at me. He stood staring at a fast food restaurant on the corner, pretending to act nonchalant after flinging a fireball at my face. It had been bold of him to fling magic in public at this time of day. But then again, these guys weren’t masters of secrecy, casting summoning circles in public parks.
Pulse racing, I headed down the street, walking quickly. In my periphery, I saw the punk mage following. Good. I needed to lead him somewhere I could blast his butt with demon fire.
Another ball of magic came rushing toward my head. I ducked and watched it slam into a parked car. The car’s alarm shrieked. I broke into a run. This guy wasn’t playing around. I made it several blocks and turned left, heading toward the library.
A guy stepped into my path. He was bigger with gray streaks in his brown hair.
He smirked at me. “Going somewhere?”
“Who are you supposed to be?” I countered.
Green magic danced on his finger tips and his smile widened. Fear raced up my spine. This guy was only feet away and I could see Mohawk crossing the street. Two against one was always a harder fight. And though this street was quieter, there was still a little traffic. Any mundane witnesses were too many.
“I’m Elmer.”
I snorted. “Elmer? Like the glue?”
He frowned, then growled. He tossed his green ball of magic right at me. I ducked and withdrew my sword, swinging it at Elmer as I came back up. He threw more magic at me and I dodged as it whizzed past my head, so close the heat of it made my face hot. I swung my sword, catching the edge of his shirt and ripping the fabric. He danced backward but Mohawk appeared, throwing another green ball of magic in my direction.
I raced down the side street and jumped the fence. I ended up in a narrow alley facing an emptier street. Mohawk was close behind, flying over the fence like an expert gymnast. I spun around and gathered my magic, feeling the fire tingle in my hand. I threw it at him.
Mohawk’s hideous denim vest ignited in blue demon fire. He swore. Stopped, dropped, and rolled. Before he could get up, I grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up, slamming him against the wall. I pressed my sword against his throat.
“Who are you?”
He gulped, eyes wide. He moved his hand, as if to gather magic, and I pressed my arm harder against his chest.
“Move and I burn you to ash,” I threatened. “Who are you? And who sent you?”
His lips quivered. He flicked his lip ring with his tongue, probably unaware he was doing it. He didn’t answer. A green ball of magical fire came through the chain-link fence. I swore and let go of Mohawk, dodging the attack. Mohawk was slower to react, barely getting out of the way before the fire slammed against the brick.
Elmer hopped onto the fence and climbed. Mohawk gathered his magic. So I gathered mine. Heat burned through my veins exploding out of my fingertips until I had a blue ball of demonic fire in my hand.
“Stop!” I shouted.
Elmer jumped down from the fence. He did not stop. He gathered more magic. I tossed my fire at him. It hit his spell mid-air and the spells exploded into a blue and green mess of smoke. I stared. Usually demon fire was stronger than mage magic, but this time, they’d cancelled each other out. The smell of ichor and brimstone filled the air, sulfur making my nostrils itch.
Elmer came at me. Mohawk recovered and gathered more magic. So I did the same. I pulled magic from my veins and let it dance on my fingers until I had a massive amount of firepower in my palm, literally. And Conor wasn’t around to keep me from using it.
“Tell me who sent you or I’ll barbecue you,” I shouted.
For the first time, Elmer paused. He held magic of his own but the blue demon flames in my palm burned hot and bright.
“No one,” Elmer said, but his eyes had widened and he was looking at Mohawk in his charred t-shirt, his vest burned to rags, urging him to fire his magic at me. I aimed my fireball at him. He squeaked. I threw the fire at him. Mohawk dropped his spell, turned tail, and ran. The demon fire exploded against the wall.
I inched closer to Elmer, who took a tentative step backward, putting him against the fence. I gathered more fire and held it up near his face.
“Did you kill Marcus Goldsmith?” I asked, closing in on him.
The magic in his hand dimmed. “A demon did th
at,” he said.
My heart pounded. It was a stab in the dark that this jerk would know anything but he did. He’d been there. Or at least he knew what went down. “What were you doing in that house?” I demanded, pushing the fire closer to his face.
His hand dropped to his side, his magic evaporating into the air. Sweat beaded his upper lip.
The blast hit me square in the lower back. It knocked me into Elmer. My fist full of magic slammed against the fence, which caught fire. Demon fire can burn anything. Elmer pushed me to the ground and bolted, following on the heels of Mohawk, who’d apparently had the balls to come back and save his friend.
I willed the magic fire to extinguish itself and it did, leaving a gaping hole in the chain-link. My back ached and my knees were scraped. My sword had fallen on the ground. I stood, dusted off my jeans, and tried very hard to walk. It was an effort, every step sending pain flaring up my spine. Bending over to pick up my sword took ten full minutes. Climbing the fence wasn’t going to happen.
I headed out to the street. Mohawk and Elmer were long gone.
I took a deep breath and, doing my best to ignore the excruciating pain in my back, stumbled back to my office.
Chapter 15
I dropped my sword on my desk and peeled off my leather coat. There was a scorch mark in the lower back of the jacket, and some of the leather had kind of melted. I let it drop to the floor. I couldn’t afford a new one right now so I guessed I’d be smelling like burnt leather for a while. That was a bummer. In my line of work, leather was my armor, and I felt too naked running around without it. I hoped I could solve this case and get paid. The sooner I could afford a replacement, the better.
I stripped off my t-shirt, which hadn’t suffered any outer damage, and let that fall on the jacket. I went to my office’s fridge and dug out the healing salve I’d brewed up a few weeks ago. There was maybe an inch of the green jam-like stuff in the bottom of the jar. I put making another batch on my mental list of things to do when I had time.
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