by Sonya Clark
Nate joined in. “Got it.”
“Hey, is it true what I heard? You got yourself a witch girlfriend?”
Nate had expected the news to travel fast, but it was early enough not everyone on the day shift had even clocked in yet. That must have set some kind of record. Not sure how to answer, he shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s—” He covered his silence by drinking. He didn’t know what Calla was to him, or he to her, but he knew it wasn’t something he wanted to gossip about.
Mullins gave him a knowing look. “Yeah, it’s something, isn’t it? Back before I was married I used to go to this place not too far from the zone. It’s not there anymore—got shut down years ago. It was supposed to be a nightclub but really it was more or less a brothel.” He stretched his mouth into a lecherous grin that made Nate want a hazmat shower. “Holy shit the things those girls could do. It was un-fucking-real.” He let loose with a wolf whistle.
Nate tried to think of a way to change the subject. Barring that, he hoped for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow Mullins. No such luck. The man sat there as if fully expecting Nate to cough up intimate details. “Well she’s not boring. I’ll say that.” Nate tried to hide his distaste behind the coffee cup, surreptitiously glancing at his watch. Another hour until he had to be in the press room. “Hey, I was gonna ask you something.” He hadn’t been, really, but it made for a good getaway from the current topic.
“What’s that?”
“Ever heard of something called the darknet?”
Mullins replaced the lecherous grin with a grimace. “Yeah, back when I was working Sex Crimes. Nasty stuff. Why?”
“Somebody said something about it and I’d never heard of it. It sounded like a social network for conspiracy junkies.”
“Yeah, there’s that too.” Mullins relaxed, downing more of his coffee. “Perverts and crazy people, that’s what you’ll find in the darknet. You’re not going down the rabbit hole on us, are you?”
Nate shook his head. “I was just curious.” No way was he asking Mullins about the unregistered rumors. Then he thought of something else to fish for. “I’m glad things didn’t get too bad Saturday night. I didn’t relish the idea of getting called out.”
Mullins wagged his eyebrows. “‘Specially not with your little witch over for the night.”
Nate let that go. “I heard they never caught the Magic Born they were looking for.”
“They probably won’t either. Those glamour spells give them a hell of an advantage when it comes to hiding in plain sight.”
Unless they got caught. “Those guys that got hurt okay?”
Mullins shrugged. “Have no idea. All I know is they had to be very well connected for that kind of response. I mean, offensive magic always gets a big response, but going door to door over the whole city? I’m surprised we didn’t get called out.” The older cop rose to leave. “Enjoy your commendation, kid.”
“Thanks, Mullins.”
The only thing he’d learned was that he was now the subject of salacious department gossip. Not a surprise, but it still chafed. Nate spent the rest of his free time before the ceremony reading the morning news.
The press room was a large space with a podium backed by various flags, several rows of chairs in the front already mostly filled with reporters, and a banquet table on the side heavy with food trays and better-smelling coffee than what he’d had earlier. There was no sign of the chief or the senator yet, but several police and DMS brass milled among what looked like the entire city council. Nate braced himself and waded into the bullshit.
He exchanged a nod with Donald Lewis but kept walking, not wanting to talk to the zone administrator. As he neared the podium, Decker and Beckwith entered from a side door. The chief waved him over.
The senator greeted him. “Detective, it’s good to see you again.”
“Good morning, sir. Nice to see you.”
After a perfunctory handshake the senator drifted off to schmooze with someone else. Decker grabbed Nate by the shoulder. “Doing okay, kid?”
“Yes, sir. My fly is zipped and I know not to cuss in front of anyone important. Or a microphone.”
The chief laughed. “Good, kid, that’s good to hear.”
The ceremony was brief—a lot of meaningless patter about his exceptional police work, then a quick series of pictures with the chief and the senator flanking him while he held the commendation certificate. After that it was The Beckwith Show. For twenty interminable minutes Beckwith spoke at length about his dear family friend Alan Forbes and what a treasure he was to the community, how his work at the DMS labs kept the nation safe, blah, yadda, blah. Nate tuned out after the first minute, wondering if he could afford a couple of decent steaks and how he might convince Calla to come back to his place for dinner.
The word research pinged his radar and he tuned back in. Beckwith spoke of Forbes’s work to keep the community and the nation safe, but gave no details of what research for that purpose might entail. Beckwith and Decker didn’t want to know why the doctor was experimenting with making nightshade, if indeed that’s what he’d been doing. To Nate it was another piece that didn’t fit. Or rather a piece that had been thrown out completely, the empty spot it should have occupied disguised by the misshapen piece of Santo’s guilt.
Beckwith finally ended his speech, the signal for the mingling to begin. Nate would have preferred to leave, but he’d already been briefed that he was expected to stay. Avoiding the reporters, he made his way to the buffet and an artfully arranged pile of pastries.
A councilwoman he recognized from the news approached. Tall and thin with long red hair, she wore a pale gold skirt suit and high heels. He thought her name might have been Marshall or Marsden, or something like that.
“Detective, congratulations on a job well done,” she said in a voice as smooth as her hair.
“Thank you, Councilwoman.” At least he didn’t have a mouth full of pastry. He returned the plate to the stack and edged down the table for coffee instead.
“Elizabeth Marsden,” she supplied. “I was familiar with Dr. Forbes through his charity work. His death is a terrible loss to the community.”
Nate thought of the reactions of Calla and Vadim and didn’t know what to say. Politics was not his strong suit. “I’m glad the case has been resolved.” There was that word again, resolved. Not the same as solved, he thought.
Marsden smiled, giving Nate the impression of a shark sizing up dinner. “I understand you have an exemplary record, both as a police officer and a member of the armed forces. A young, handsome, ambitious man like yourself could take that record and use it to make something of himself. Something quite significant.”
The rich scent of gourmet coffee took on a top note of bullshit. “My ambition is to be the best cop I can.” He tried smiling to soften the put-down but could barely manage it.
The councilwoman placed a hand on his biceps and squeezed. “I’m sure you’re the best at everything you choose to do, Detective.”
He froze, unsure how to untangle himself from a member of the city council in a room full of dignitaries. He stretched his arm to reach for another cup. “I do what I can. Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Decker came within earshot and Nate could have hugged him for it. “Chief, can I get you some coffee as well?”
Decker gave him a knowing look but played along. “Sure thing. Two sugars, one cream.”
Marsden said, “I take mine black, thank you.”
Nate made the coffee and did his best to keep the chief between him and Councilwoman Marsden until she finally went in search of another victim.
An hour seemed like long enough to mingle. Nate let it be known he was going back to work and left the press room. Beckwith and the head of his security detail were in the hall with their heads together. Nate stopped short, and they abruptly ended th
eir conversation. The guard stared at him for a moment, as if cataloguing his appearance and deciding whether he was a threat or not. Nate stared back, taking in what looked like extreme sunburn across the guard’s face: a large patch of red in a wide slash over his eyes framed by undamaged skin above and below. After a look from the senator, the guard moved several feet away.
“Detective, leaving so soon?”
“I need to get back to work, sir.” What could have caused that kind of damage? And had it happened Saturday night?
Beckwith said, “I want to thank you again for your work on this case. Of course, Alan was more than a case to me—he was my friend. A friend to my family. It means a great deal that justice has been served in his name.”
Nate nodded. “You’re welcome, sir. I’m just glad that second DNA test was more accurate than the first. Without it we wouldn’t have enough to charge Nelson Santo.”
A quick glance would have suggested that the senator’s face remained the same. That he had no reaction whatsoever to what had been said. Nate could see it in his eyes, though, the briefest flicker of something. As rashly as he’d stepped out on that ledge Nate pulled back, thinking of Calla and wondering again how Beckwith’s guard had gotten that sunburn. “To be honest, I feel strange accepting a commendation. It was just as much the DMS lab, if not more, that made resolving this case possible. I’d like to see them get their share of the credit.”
Whatever was hovering at the edge of Beckwith’s eyes disappeared as he smiled. “Now that is the sign of a true team player. I like that. I like it very much.” He held out his hand and Nate shook it. “I hope to see you again sometime, Detective. Take care of yourself.”
“You too, sir.”
The senator walked away, followed by his guard. Nate leaned against the wall, the coffee he’d drunk threatening to rebel. That might very well have been the stupidest, most dangerous thing he’d ever done. He had no proof whatsoever, but he knew as surely as he knew his own name that Calla’s trouble Saturday night had been with Beckwith’s guard. She’d seen a Magic Born she didn’t know perform magic off the zone, and the guard had taken steps to kill her rather than risk her getting away to talk about it. The order for the sweep had come from regional DMS headquarters, something the senator had the power to make happen. The first DNA test had pointed to an unregistered Magic Born. Forbes had possibly been experimenting with creating nightshade for reasons unknown.
Nate ticked through the bullet points in frustration. None of it made any sense. None of it really fit together. Some of the puzzle pieces gave the vague suggestion of fitting, but there were missing pieces in between. He could let it go, protecting himself and Calla as well. Or he could keep pushing until he found those missing pieces.
Right then, he didn’t know which he wanted to do.
Chapter Eighteen
Calla tossed the book to the floor, too distracted to read. She couldn’t get Nate out of her mind. There had to be a way to talk to him about that first DNA test without giving away what she knew. After what she’d seen on the news tonight though, she wasn’t sure if she’d be seeing him again or not. If the guy was happy to let some city council slag put her hands all over him in public, in front of news cameras no less, then he must not have had much interest in Calla.
But then what was he supposed to do, slap the bitch in front of all those people? While it might have been fun to watch that on a loop, the video of him getting arrested wouldn’t be quite so entertaining. It’s not like they had any kind of claim on each other anyway. A few kisses did not a commitment make. Nate was free to see other people if he wanted, and so was she.
Except she’d have Vadim breathing down her neck if she showed up at Sinsuality looking to party. Staying on the couch seemed like a much better plan.
A knock came from the door, too polite to be trouble.
“Calla, it’s Nate.”
She considered staying silent and letting him think she wasn’t home. He’d be able to see the light was on though. So what? She owed him nothing.
He knocked again. “Calla? Come on, babe, I know you’re home.”
Babe? Babe? What the hell was that? She jumped off the couch and rushed to the door, an angry retort on her lips.
Lips he immediately covered with his in a hungry kiss. Anger melting away, she responded with an equal intensity, practically climbing up his body to curl her hands around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, carrying her far enough into the room to get the door closed. His hands roamed her back as his lips moved down to her throat. Almost dizzy with need, she wanted him to keep going, carry her to the couch, the bed, hell, even the floor would do. She wanted his hands all over, his mouth to cool her heated skin or maybe set it all the way on fire.
They stumbled against the couch and for a moment she thought of pulling him down, but then she remembered two things: she was supposed to be angry with him, and she was supposed to get information from him. Neither thought sat well with her. She pushed him away, breaking the kiss. He let her drop to the couch, then sat next to her.
Looking entirely too pleased with himself, he said, “Hi.”
The temptation to crawl into his lap was almost too much. She shook her head to try to clear the lust. “Babe?”
He laughed. “Got you to open the door, didn’t it?”
“What are you doing here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to see you. I was hoping you’d want to see me.”
“Sure you wouldn’t rather be at some swank dinner with your new friend Councilwoman Handsy?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back.
“Ooh, somebody’s jealous. Saw that on the news, huh?”
“It was hard to miss.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Nate slid closer and draped an arm around her shoulders, fingers playing with her hair. “Then you know she put her hands on me, not the other way around.”
“Looked like she was making an invitation.”
“She might have been. But I didn’t take it.” He kissed her cheek, then nuzzled the curve of her neck below her ear. “I’m right where I want to be,” he murmured.
A golden warmth spread from where his lips nibbled at her skin to the rest of her body in a languid wave. It brushed against her senses, calling to the magic in her.
Vadim’s face intruded, urging her to remember her purpose. Worse, the face of Nelson Santo hovered in her conscience.
She moved away, trying to figure out how to do this.
Nate trailed his hand down her arm. “What are you really upset about? Because it can’t be that woman.”
Calla laced her fingers together, elbows on her knees. “I know the Santo family.”
“I’m sorry, Calla.” His hand was in her hair again, fingertips skimming her nape. “I’m a cop. This is what I do.”
“What I don’t understand is why there was an investigation at all.” She took a deep breath and plunged. “It was DNA that made the murder charge stick. So if you had DNA, why not just run it and bring him in right away?”
He withdrew his hand. “That part of the investigation isn’t public knowledge.”
Facing him, she said, “I’m not the public.”
He looked away for a long moment. “It would make the department look bad if this got out.”
Tension coiled in every part of her. “I’m not planning to put out a press release. I just want to understand what happened.”
She could see him come to a decision. He said, “There was a screwup at the police lab. The first test was botched. DMS had to run it again and that’s how Santo was identified. The warrant for him was being certified as I was bringing him in for questioning.”
“The lab screwed up?” It seemed too easy.
“Yeah, t
here was an off-the-wall result the first time. I feel bad for the guy who did it. He got busted down to working the graveyard shift.”
“A lab screwup,” she repeated, more to herself than him. “That’s what this comes down to.”
“Yep.”
“How do you know the second test isn’t wrong too?”
“Believe me, after those first results, I’m sure the DMS lab techs ran it more than once. And with their budget they’ve got to have better equipment than a city police department.”
“I just have a hard time believing Nelson is a killer.”
“I don’t think he planned it. I think things got out of control and it just happened. Look—” he took her hand, twining his fingers with hers. “—the Forbes case is over. I’m more concerned with what happened Saturday night. Have you told anyone about that? Because I don’t think it’d be a good idea to talk about it.”
Vadim was the only person she’d told, but Nate didn’t need to know that. “No, of course not. I know there are people who would turn me in for a little reward money.”
“So as far as everyone is concerned, both here in FreakTown and in the city, you were with me Saturday night?”
His concern worried her and touched her. “Yes! As far as everybody knows, Calla Vesper did the unthinkable and lowered herself to take a Normal lover.” Laughing, she put up only a token fight as he pulled her into his lap.
“I’ll have you know there is nothing normal about my lovemaking abilities.”
“There you go bragging again.”
“But I do like the idea of you lowering yourself.” He kissed the hollow of her throat.
She caught his earlobe between her teeth. “Pervert.” A different kind of tension worked its way through her nerves, one only his touch could soothe.
Eyes shining with desire, he grinned. “Why yes, Miss Vesper, I am. Would you like me to demonstrate?”