by Lisa Edmonds
With a growl, I grabbed the near-empty bottle of Scotch, limped inside, and slammed the door.
2
I slept for twelve hours and woke with the hangover from hell.
“Oh, God.” I rolled over and blinked groggily at the ceiling. My body hurt like I’d been beaten with socks full of rocks and I thought my head might be in actual danger of exploding. The room spun like a broken carnival ride.
“How are you feeling?”
I raised my head just enough to see Malcolm floating by my bedroom door. “Just shoot me,” I groaned.
“At least you got a full night’s sleep for a change. Talking to the vampire must have helped.”
I put my pillow over my face. “Yeah, it helped. Go ’way.”
Malcolm snickered. My crude response was muffled by the pillow.
“When you feel like getting up and around, I’ll be in the basement,” he said. “I’ve got something to show you.”
“’Kay,” I mumbled. I felt rather than saw Malcolm leave the room.
I lay in bed until I felt like I could stand up without falling, then staggered to the bathroom. I washed down a couple of aspirin with a cup of tap water, climbed into the shower, and stood under the spray for a long time. My left hip and elbow were bruised and sore. I thought about using healing spells on them, but decided I deserved the discomfort.
When I finally emerged from the shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel, brushed my teeth, and drank another cup of water. I still felt terrible, but at least my vision wasn’t blurry anymore and my brain now seemed to be the right size for my skull. By the time I dried my hair, got dressed, and made it downstairs, the aspirin had taken the edge off the headache.
I pulled the bag from my kitchen trash can and headed outside. The late morning sun was painfully bright, and I wished I’d put on my sunglasses as I trudged around the side of the house to my garbage can. I lifted the lid and tossed the bag in.
A short, dark-haired man in a gray uniform was walking up my sidewalk, a clipboard in hand. A city utility truck was parked across the street. He waved the clipboard at me. “Excuse me.”
I stopped in the yard as he veered off the sidewalk and approached. “Yes?”
“I’m with the water department,” he said. His name tag read Larry. “I don’t know if you were aware, but there was some damage to the water main in this area. Have you noticed any issues with your water in the past two days?”
“I haven’t noticed any problems,” I said.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled in warning. “Larry” was unnaturally stiff, like he wasn’t quite sure how all his muscles worked. His dark eyes looked empty and flat. I suspected “Larry” was neither a city worker nor human.
Carefully, I lowered my shields enough to get an idea of what I might be dealing with. A familiar searing heat danced on the edges of my senses, and I caught just the slightest whiff of sulfur. The corner of my mouth turned up ever so slightly. I was surprised he was out in broad daylight; usually low demons preferred twilight or full dark. Then again, the long-sleeved uniform and cap covered most of his body, and he kept his back to the sun as much as possible.
“Larry” raised his clipboard and scrawled my street address on a piece of paper, then added “No problems” next to it and gave me a smile that didn’t look quite right. “Thanks for your time.” He dug in his pocket and handed me a fridge magnet shaped like a water tower. “If you ever have any problems, here’s our website and phone number. Be sure to keep it handy.”
“I will,” I assured him. “You have a good day.”
“You too.” He spun on his heel and headed back across the yard toward his truck. I watched him get in, write something else on the clipboard, then drive off down the street.
When he was out of sight, I glanced at the magnet on my palm. I couldn’t sense any spells on it but I’d bet real money it was anything but just a freebie magnet. “Beware demons bearing gifts,” I murmured.
There was no way I was hanging onto it, much less taking it inside the house past my wards. I held out my hand. “Burn.”
The magnet went up in a ball of white fire. I felt a tingle and puff of dark magic, and then all that was left was ash. The magnet had been spelled, all right. To what end I didn’t know, but the threat was neutralized. I took the ashes to the trash can, dumped them in, then went back inside.
After washing my hands, I took my cell phone to the living room and curled up on one end of the couch, the only piece of furniture in the room. A record player sat on a shelf, covered in dust. A couple of crates of records and several stacks of books and movies were lined up on the floor below it, equally dusty.
I had a voice mail from an unknown local number. It was date-stamped two days ago, and it was a voice I hadn’t heard in years. “Alice, this is Mark Dunlap. I hope you’re doing well and staying busy. If you get a chance, I’d like to speak with you. I understand from a mutual acquaintance you might be willing to at least talk things through. Also, I have an important case I’d like to discuss with you. You can get me at this number anytime.” He disconnected.
To say I was startled was an understatement. I hadn’t heard from Mark since the day I left his private investigator firm to start my own. I’d worked for him for eighteen months while I was getting my mage PI license. He’d expected me to stay on and hadn’t taken my departure well.
The “mutual acquaintance” was probably Charles, who routinely hired Mark and his firm to do work for the Vampire Court. Charles had hinted to me a while back that Mark had expressed regret about how we’d parted company and I’d indicated I might feel ready to let bygones be bygones. I hadn’t given it much thought, but hearing Mark’s familiar gruff voice brought back a tidal wave of memories.
I frowned as I thought about what he’d said. “Important case” had always been Mark’s sly way of referencing jobs for the Vampire Court. I could only assume his word choice had not been accidental. I wondered what case he was working on and why he wanted to discuss it with me. I recalled last night’s awkward scene with Charles and grimaced. I needed to be smart and stay away from the vampire. I stored Mark’s number in my phone and decided to think about calling him.
I left my phone on the couch, grabbed an apple from the fridge, and headed for the basement door.
My basement was a fortress. There were wards on top of wards on top of wards, all with deadly landmines and cascade spells designed to repel intruders. Its foundation spells required eight pints of blood, and its black wards—the deadliest kind of spellwork—would kill or incapacitate anyone who tried to breach its perimeter. I’d been working on the wards for the entire four and half years that I had been in this house. They were a masterpiece of power and intricacy, yet so well-hidden that even the most adept mage would not be able to sense them from outside the house. Only two people could cross the wards safely: myself and Malcolm.
I took a bite of my apple, opened the basement door, and pushed through the wards. “Coming down!” I hollered.
“Clear!” Malcolm called back.
It was always a good idea to warn a mage when you were about to enter their work area, in case they were in the middle of delicate spellwork. Not doing so could have serious consequences. My grandfather’s cabal compound lost part of a wing for precisely that reason when I was ten. Luckily, I’d been on the other side of the compound at the time. Six people died, including the mage and the idiot who interrupted him.
I headed down the steps and shut the door behind me. The basement was divided into two areas: a library with a half-dozen floor-to-ceiling bookcases and a large reading table, and my work area, featuring a triple circle inlaid in the floor, a large work table, and five heavily warded large oak storage cabinets. Two of them contained my blood magic materials and had deadly black wards.
When I got to the bottom of the steps, I found Malcolm working with the spell crystals I’d gotten for him. He’d already created “bolt-hole” spells allowing him to jump to and
between certain crystals in case of an emergency. We’d put one in my office so he could jump directly there and another here in the basement. I had one in my car and one on my charm bracelet. We hadn’t used them much but I felt better knowing Malcolm could jump to safety if the poop hit the prop.
Malcolm was hiding from Darius Bell, his former employer who’d had him murdered. As such, I had not registered Malcolm with the Supernatural and Paranormal Entity Management Agency, or SPEMA, as required by federal law, so we both had a vested interest in keeping him safely hidden. Meanwhile, I was hiding from my grandfather, crime lord Moses Murphy, whose cabal I had escaped five years before by faking my death and assuming the identity of Alice Worth, a Chicago native who moved to the West Coast to start a new life after her parents’ deaths. Though Malcolm had surmised that I was hiding too, he didn’t know from whom or why, and I had to keep it that way—for both his sake and mine.
Malcolm paused what he was doing. “Hey, I know you’ve been busy, so I made you some more mid-range healing spells in case you need them.” He gestured at a little pile of small white crystals on the table.
“Thank you. I made some more blood-magic healing spells the other day too, so my first-aid kit is back to fully stocked.”
“Knowing you, it won’t be long until you need some.” Malcolm floated over to me. “What’s up? You look concerned.”
“The weirdest thing just happened.” I told him about my demon visitor and the magnet I’d burned to ash.
Malcolm studied me. “I don’t see any trace of unfamiliar magic. Whatever spell was on it, it didn’t do anything to you as far as I can tell. What do you think that was about?”
“No idea,” I said with a shrug, taking a bite of apple. “I didn’t recognize him. What kind of spells are you working on?”
“Is that all you’re going to eat?”
I made a face. “Malcolm, if you had any idea how nauseated I am right now, you’d be amazed I’m eating anything at all.”
“You’ve lost at least ten pounds in the last month or so. You really need to take better care of yourself.”
“I have not lost ten pounds.”
He looked at me.
I sighed. “Fine, I’ll try to eat better. Satisfied?”
“No, but this is the most reasonable you’ve been in a while, so I’m going to chalk it up as a win.”
I rolled my eyes and went over to the work table, where a dozen small spell crystals were laid out in a row. “What’s all this?”
He lit up in excitement. “I’ve got a new trick. Find me if you can.” He vanished.
I passed my hand over the crystals one at a time, reaching out with my senses until I found him in the third crystal from the left. I picked it up and booted him out of it. “Release.”
Malcolm appeared in front of me. “Nice. But what if I do this?” He disappeared again.
I put the crystal back on the table and passed my hand over the crystals. This time, he wasn’t in any of them. Hmm. I glanced around but I didn’t see any more crystals sitting out. I frowned. Had he jumped somewhere else?
After a minute, Malcolm popped into existence again. “You didn’t find me, did you?” he asked smugly.
“Where did you go?”
Malcolm pointed to the first crystal on the right. “There.”
I shook my head. “I would have felt you.”
“Nope. That’s what I’ve been working on: a stronger masking spell to hide me better. Try again with the same crystal.” He disappeared.
I held my hand over the crystal and still felt nothing. Scowling, I put my apple core on the table, closed my eyes, and tried again. This time, I took a deep breath, exhaled, and concentrated. It was surprisingly difficult to stay focused. I realized I hadn’t been practicing much for the past month. Three cases back-to-back meant I hadn’t had much spare time.
I was suddenly angry with myself. That wasn’t an excuse and I knew it. I couldn’t afford to let my skills slip.
I took another deep breath, inhaling through my nose and out through my mouth. I did that several times, slowing my heart rate and breathing and clearing my head. I raised my hand over the crystal and focused.
Finally, on the edge of my senses, I felt the telltale buzzing. It was extremely faint, and if I hadn’t known Malcolm was in the crystal, I would never have noticed it. I touched the crystal and released Malcolm.
“Took some work, didn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes, it did. That’s really excellent, Malcolm. Even knowing where you were, I could barely sense you. That’s one of the strongest masking spells I’ve ever felt. How long have you been working on it?”
“The last couple of weeks.” He looked closely at me. “Your aura looks better. It was kind of muddy before.”
“I bet,” I said with a sigh. “I haven’t been working on my magic much lately. I think I need to spend some time down here and clear my head and my aura.”
An hour later, I emerged from the basement, covered in sweat and limping.
“I’m sorry!” Malcolm said for the fourth or fifth time.
“It’s fine,” I repeated, going into the kitchen for a drink of water. I filled a cup from the sink, guzzled it, filled it again, and grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. I hobbled to the couch, flopped down, and put the bag on my left thigh, where a two-inch hole was burned in my pants. Beneath it, the skin was an angry red.
“Aren’t you going to use a healing spell?” Malcolm asked, floating in front of the couch.
“Maybe later. Right now, I’m teaching myself an important lesson.”
“You’re teaching yourself an important lesson?” Malcolm echoed. “What, that frozen peas are good for burns?”
“No, I learned that a long time ago. I’m teaching myself what happens when you don’t keep your skills up.”
“I am really sorry.”
“I swear, if you don’t stop apologizing, I will listen to every Ozzy and Black Sabbath album I own.” Malcolm hated Ozzy. “Two months ago, you’d never have been able to zap me like that. I haven’t been practicing my spellwork or with my whip. You outmaneuvered me fair and square, and you weren’t even moving at full speed. Don’t bother trying to deny it,” I added when he started to argue. “It was obvious you were holding back. If you’d really been trying, I’d be covered in burns.”
“Can I at least heal that? Every time you grimace, it’s making me feel guilty.”
I sighed. “Okay. I guess I’ve probably suffered enough that I’ll remember this.” With a groan, I sat up, removed the bag of peas, and steeled myself. “Go for it.”
Malcolm’s fingers moved quickly, drawing a rune in the air. He floated over to me, held his hand above my leg, and invoked the spell. “Integro.”
Earth magic flared, and I sucked in a breath as the healing spell went to work. After about thirty seconds of discomfort and minor pain, the burn was gone.
“Now, if only there were a spell to fix these pants,” I said grumpily. “They’re about the only thing I have to wear that fits these days.”
He cleared his throat and glanced meaningfully at the kitchen.
“Fine.” I hauled myself to my feet and took the peas back to the freezer. I threw together a salad, grabbed a beer, and took my food to the couch.
“When are you going to buy some furniture?” Malcolm wanted to know. “It looks kind of sad in here.”
I sat cross-legged on the couch, my salad bowl in my lap and my beer next to me. “Yeah, I know. It’s on my to-do list.” I shoveled some salad into my mouth and chased the food down with a swig of beer.
“I get why you didn’t want the vampire to buy you furniture, all things considered, but why didn’t you let Sean do it when he offered?” He hesitated, then added, “I never really understood how you guys ended up breaking up over furniture.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked about my fight with Sean. I’d been telling him it was none of his business, but Malcolm was clearly not going
to stop asking until he got an answer.
I sighed. “First of all, we didn’t break up; you can’t break up if you aren’t really dating. Second, he didn’t offer. He told me he was going to buy me furniture and a television.”
He winced.
“Third…” I paused, looking for the right words.
“Third, you don’t like people doing things for you. You’re kind of weird about that.”
I frowned at him, but didn’t disagree.
“So he tried to pull the alpha thing, and then…?”
“I told him he was acting like a bully. He said I was being ‘irrational.’ After that, things went downhill pretty quickly.” I focused on my salad.
“So, speaking of the vampire, what did you two talk about last night?”
I eyed him. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem a little more like yourself today, so whatever he said, it must have helped get you out of the funk you’ve been in. I was just wondering.”
“We talked about the construction site thing.” I ate quietly while Malcolm floated slowly back and forth in front of the fireplace. Finally, I added, “I’m sorry I’ve been difficult to get along with lately.”
I expected him to respond with one of his trademark snorts or a snarky comment about how I’d been difficult to get along with since the moment he first appeared in my office and I threatened to have him exorcised, but he was surprisingly serious. “It’s okay. You went through some really bad stuff. Nobody expects you to bounce right back.” A pause. “But the drinking is making me worry.”
“I think I’ll be cutting down on the drinking a bit.” I held up my bruised left elbow.
Malcolm whistled. “You want me to heal that?”
I shook my head and went back to my salad. “It’s a reminder.”
“Why do you do that?”
I stopped with the fork halfway to my mouth. “Do what?”
“Hurt yourself—or get hurt and refuse to be healed—and say it’s to teach yourself a lesson, or to help you remember something.” Malcolm floated closer. “Because I have a theory.”