by Kate Baray
“You’re in Boston, Jack. A heavily Coven-inhabited area. Any remotely trustworthy spell caster will be well outside the city. I think we’ve got a few contacts in the vicinity.” Harrington typed away on his computer, but it didn’t take him long. “I can give you three names, but—”
“I know. IPPC didn’t refer me, isn’t asking them to help me, and generally has nothing to do with any of this.”
Harrington sighed. Audibly. “Correct.”
Jack opened the bathroom door and as he walked out made a writing motion at Marin. “I get it. Go ahead.”
Marin handed him a piece of paper and pen, and Jack jotted the three names down. “Where are they?”
“Salem,” Harrington said. “Outside the city limits, but not far by rail or ferry.”
“You’re kidding. Salem?” Jack underlined the word Salem on the scrap of paper several times.
“It’s not a witch-friendly town, in part due to its history. And that has made it somewhat welcoming to spell casters. It’s not exactly a thriving community; it’s too close to Boston. But it’s close.”
“I thought you weren’t particularly well-informed when it came to the Coven and witches in general.”
“Improving intel has been a recently added objective. The information and the contacts are good.” Harrington’s tone was terse. “You’ll update me with arrival information?”
“Yeah.”
Jack pocketed his phone. Typical Harrington—no goodbye.
Jack retrieved the scrap of paper off the dresser, headed to the sofa, and collapsed in a heap. He was exhausted. “I’ve got the names of three local spell casters. With any luck, one of them will bite on a paying job involving a witch.”
“A Coven witch,” Marin said.
They both turned to Sylvia. Curled into a ball on her side, she dozed on top of the covers still clothed in Marin’s T-shirt and shorts, the flip-flops abandoned next to the bed.
“You look like crap. Take a quick a nap, and I’ll try to sort out a meeting with one of these guys. What exactly is it that we want?” Marin rummaged first in the dresser and then the closet where she pulled out a blanket. She threw it at Jack.
“A shield from tracking. Most likely a low- or mid-level geo-locator is involved.” Jack shook the blanket out and tipped his head back against the cushions. “Or some other tracking method that’s completely unknown to you, me, and IPPC.”
“Right. I’ll leave that part out, why don’t I?” Marin picked up one of the key cards they’d been issued. “I’m going to grab a few snacks from the vending machine before I call. Be right back.”
Jack grunted and pulled the blanket higher.
He must have slept soundly because the next thing he knew, Marin was shaking him awake. She shoved a small paper cup of coffee in his hand as soon as he sat up. God love her.
“Thanks.” Jack downed half the cup in a few swallows. The coffee was still hot, so he hadn’t been out long. He glanced at the bed and found Sylvia still asleep. “What have you got?”
“An appointment.” Marin pushed aside a packet of cheese crackers, a bag of chips, and some jerky to retrieve the scrap of paper he’d given her earlier. There was an address scribbled next to one of the names. “Uh, Jack, I recognized one of the names. A guy who used to do some work for my dad every once in a while. I called him.”
Jack took a sip of coffee, hoping it would settle the churning in his stomach. Where would he be without Marin? It was getting ridiculous, how much he relied on her. He chugged the rest of the coffee “Right. How long do we have?”
“We need to leave in five minutes. We’re meeting in Salem.”
Jack scrubbed his hands across his face. “All right. Give me a few minutes in the bathroom and wake up Sylvia.”
~*~
Jack, Marin, and Sylvia huddled around a table at a small Salem coffee shop, warm drinks clutched close as they waited for their spell caster to show. Jack eyed the door, waiting for the mysterious spell caster Arthur to show up.
When a small, unassuming older man walked through the door, Marin tapped the ring on her middle finger against the table. Jack nodded at her then stood up and motioned to him.
Extending his hand, Jack said, “Arthur. We appreciate you meeting us this early.”
Arthur shook his hand with surprising firmness. “’It’s alright. I don’t sleep much these days. You’re Jack?” When Jack nodded, Arthur turned to Sylvia with a questioning look.
“Sylvia. Thank you for your help.” She pumped Arthur’s extended hand with an excess of enthusiasm.
Arthur smiled politely at Sylvia—without judgment as far as Jack could tell. When Sylvia eventually released his hand, he turned to Marin and a broad smile spread across his face. “Very nice to finally meet you. Greetings to your Dad.”
After they’d all settled into their seats again, Arthur clasped his hands on the table. “You need to make someone untrackable?”
Sylvia raised her hand, a sheepish expression on her face. “That would be me.”
“No idea how they’re tracking you?” Arthur’s eyes narrowed and he raised his hand. “Don’t answer that.”
Arthur studied Sylvia for several minutes. So long that Sylvia started to shift uncomfortably in her seat. Eventually, she clasped her hands and stared fixedly at them.
Arthur reached over and placed a hand on top of Sylvia’s. “Nothing too complicated. You must have eaten a warded item. Seeds work nicely. And beans, especially raw. It would have been within the last few days. Can you think of what...?” Arthur removed his hand and leaned back in his chair.
Sylvia’s lips had thinned, and her face tensed.
“You know what it was?” Arthur asked. When she hesitated, he said, “Or you suspect.”
“Sunflower seeds. A friend—” Sylvia cleared her throat. “Another Coven witch brought some by a few days ago. I had no idea.” She gave her head a small, firm shake and attempted a smile. “I know what they’re like. I’m not sure why I’m so...” She shook her head again.
“Well, the seed is long gone at this point, but with a tracking ward a person only has to ingest it for the ward to tag them,” Arthur said. “After consumption, it’s simply a matter of how much juice the geo-locater invested in the tag. I’m guessing not much. The duration of the tag is affected by the magical energy attached to the tag. The distance the subject can be tracked is a function of both the magical energy attached to the tag as well as the talent of the tracker.”
As Arthur detailed the exact nature of geo-tagging, it occurred to Jack that the man had a great deal of information. Jack didn’t want to alienate their newfound and very informative source, but once his suspicions were raised... “You know a lot about geo-tagging.”
“Arthur’s partner was a geo-locater.” Marin mouthed “sorry” to Jack.
Jack made a mental note never again to nap and leave Marin in charge. Ever. And a reminder to smack himself when he wasn’t so damn tired.
Before Jack could feel like crap for not apologizing—because he wasn’t about to—Arthur had picked up the narrative again.
“As I was saying, this tag has neither great distance nor great duration. Not surprising, really. Not much local talent.” Arthur’s gaze drifted away, unfocused for a moment then he seemed to collect himself. “By locally, I mean in the States. We don’t have much geo-locating talent. Wales, the East Indies, a sprinkling in Australia and New Zealand—that’s where the tracking talent is. And a few outlier pockets scattered here and there, of course.”
“We appreciate you coming out of retirement for this, Arthur.” Marin shot Jack a warning look. “Any chance you can give us some specifics? A timeline? A range?”
Sylvia, looking confused, said, “How do you retire from spell casting?”
Arthur smiled and a lightness overtook his features for the first time since they’d sat down. “I suspect in much the same manner you’re leaving the Coven.” He tilted his head to the side. “Without the life-threa
tening flight. I moved and didn’t connect with the local community—what little of it there is. But back to the matter at hand, before the young man has a coronary. Two days, at a guess, before your tracking tag fades. But that’s immaterial. I can create an invisibility ward that extends well beyond your tagger’s talents.”
Sylvia’s eyes went wide. “But I won’t be actually invisible? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“No, not invisible. If you want to be untrackable, that’s an invisibility ward. You’ll be hidden from the nosy folk: geo-locaters and on a more limited basis from Lycan and other scent trackers.” Arthur waggled grey eyebrows at them. “I’m very good at invisibility wards. Not many spell casters are.”
Jack found himself smiling even though he was pretty sure they were sitting ducks in the café, and he was pretty sure he’d be on a Coven hit list after this. Arthur was likable. Speaking of being sitting ducks... “It’s been about 2 and a half hours since we last ran into the Coven. We thought we’d destroyed whatever was tracking Sylvia. But now that we know we didn’t—how exactly did we manage to evade them for that long?”
“An unreliable local tracker, maybe. Perhaps you ventured outside the tracker’s range.” Arthur gave Jack a sad smile. “You’d never have shaken Francis. My partner. Francis was a gifted tracker, one of the best. He was Welsh, of course. Not American.”
A heavy silence followed. Clearly, Arthur had lost his partner. And just as clearly, he’d been devoted to the man.
Arthur cleared his throat. “So, I’d guess that either luck or an incompetent tracker might have helped you along.”
Sylvia rubbed her eyes. “Thank the heavens for the Coven reluctance to associate with other magic-users. They probably have no idea their tracker is sub-par.” She tipped her head. “Though I suspect they’re learning and he won’t outlive this particular assignment.”
Jack shook his head at her callousness. “Yeah...”
“On the off chance that your pursuers have managed to track you through other means to the area, I’ve set up some security for our meeting this morning. I scrambled the geo tag. It will read like Sylvia’s popping in and out of range. I didn’t want to mask the tag entirely.” Arthur lifted both hands in casual gesture. “Without knowing your plans, it seemed the safest course of action.”
“Arthur, you are a gentleman and a scholar.” Jack leaned forward. “Here’s what I’m thinking. Sylvia, you have to disappear before you leave the country. And the best way to make sure you disappear is to kill you.”
Sylvia clapped her hands together. “I love it. If I’m dead, no one’s following me. It’s perfect.”
Arthur nodded. “I can ward a piece of jewelry or clothing. It’s easy enough to make a ward that activates when it’s worn. Then once you’ve been killed off officially, you can trigger the invisibility ward.”
Marin removed a ring from her left thumb, a simple silver band she wore most days, and handed it to Arthur. “Will this work?”
Arthur took the ring, examined it briefly, and nodded.
“But how do we kill me?” Sylvia asked.
That was the question.
CHAPTER SIX
Jack scanned the small outdoor area. He hoped sticking around in Salem had been the right plan. That this was a good place to implement their plan. He rubbed his temple, hoping the looming headache would fade. At least Salem had to be better than Boston.
“Jack! This is important.” Sylvia held up a glass container. “These aren’t labeled.”
Jack pulled his attention back to the small table where Sylvia had placed a few of her potions. He couldn’t help it; the crawling sensation on the back of his neck was telling him something wasn’t right.
“I got it. The round, chemistry-set-looking flask is fire. The peanut butter container has glitter that sticks and burns. The test tubes with the corks fluoresce after they’ve been shaken.”
Sylvia closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. “Vigorously shaken.”
When she opened her eyes again, Jack said, “Vigorously shaken—got it. So I’m a little distracted. Can you blame me?”
She sighed. “No—but you need to know what each of these containers holds. And the peanut butter jar isn’t glitter. Those are small seeds. Don’t let them touch your skin. They won’t actually burn you, but any contact and you’ll feel like you’re on fire.” Sylvia fiddled with the material of her new skirt, bought a half hour earlier from a small boutique they’d stumbled across as they’d put their plan in place. “I can’t believe they didn’t catch up with us while we were shopping.”
Jack glanced at his phone. Almost noon. “Exactly how incompetent is this tracker?”
Sylvia raised her eyebrows. “Maybe Arthur’s scramble was better than he intended. Or they had to dig deep for some better evil-henchmen talent? Whatever the reason, my feet are grateful. Those flip-flops were terrible.”
Marin appeared, a large takeout bag in one hand and a felt marker in the other. She handed the marker to Jack. “Great. Like the regular bad guys weren’t bad enough. My vote’s for Arthur. He probably tied their geo-locator’s antennae in a knot.”
Jack passed the marker to Sylvia. She shook her head but took it. “It’s important you understand how each of these works.” She started to carefully print instructions on the glass and plastic containers.
Jack took a bite of his burger, while Marin pulled out the rest of the food. He had a handle on the contents...then he remembered the insta-fire. A little caution was warranted. He turned to keep an eye on Sylvia’s scribblings.
Marin stuffed a fry in her mouth. “Let’s hope the supervillain angle is crap.”
“I might be a traitor, but I’m still a witch. The run-of-the-mill Coven member may have no qualms about performing death magic on humans.” A deep furrow appeared between Sylvia’s eyebrows. “And others. But not witches. If you’re drinking the Coven Kool-Aid, you believe witches are a higher form of being.”
“Long story short, they may have more limited resources than appears at first glance.” Marin said, and shoved another fry in her mouth.
Sylvia nodded. “But I’m pretty sure we haven’t worked our way through Boston’s squad of enforcers or upper management—all of whom would happily see me dead.”
Jack had picked their outdoor location for visibility and ease of escape. He just wasn’t planning for them to escape very far. “All we need is one of them to make a move. If they’re much longer, we’ll have to move to another spot. We don’t want to broadcast the plan by making ourselves too available.”
Sylvia replaced the cap on the marker with a firm snap. “Done. And I’m very uncomfortable with this part of the plan. This sitting around and waiting to get jumped part.”
Marin and Jack exchanged a glance. They couldn’t predict exactly how the Coven would strike next. Unanswered questions meant gaps—weaknesses—in their plan. But the plan was in place and rolling forward. Some fire and a little sleight of hand and, hopefully, Sylvia would be in the clear.
Jack didn’t understand how Sylvia was protected from the flames, but Marin said it could be done. And having witnessed the complete control his dragon side-kick had displayed on a previous case—lighting up an entire room in seconds, destroying the contents but nothing else, then extinguishing the flames and leaving the charred remains cool to the touch in an equally short amount of time—yeah, Jack believed she could keep Sylvia safe.
“Jack.”
From her irritated tone, Jack guessed wasn’t the first time Marin had called his name. Not good; he had to stay sharp.
“Yeah. You got something?” Jack started to gather their trash.
“Not close, but approaching,” Marin said. “Definitely witch.”
“I guess it’s time. There are three of them, by the way.” Sylvia stood up and grabbed the extended handle of the ice chest.
“You’ve got the ring?” Jack asked.
Without the warded ring that Arthur had created for them that morni
ng, the plan would fail. Invisibility, his ass. Well, there’d been no way to verify it worked because she couldn’t put it on until she’d “died.” They were all placing a great deal of trust in Arthur.
Sylvia pulled at the ribbon hanging around her neck and showed him the attached ring. When he nodded, she stuffed it back under her shirt.
Marin stood up, scanning the surrounding area. “Let’s go.” Briskly, her hand on Sylvia’s elbow, Marin ushered her in the direction of the small wooded area about fifty yards from the table.
That had been the point of choosing this particular area: food, a picnic bench, and a handy wooded area in which to disappear. Jack resisted the urge to actually cross his fingers as he jogged the few feet separating him from Marin and Sylvia. The short stretch to the woods seemed like a mile given their slow pace. And Jack still hadn’t spotted their three pursuers.
And there they were. Jack caught sight of two men and a woman over his right shoulder. All three were weaving with determination through the light crowd of midday foot traffic.
Jack placed a hand on the middle of Sylvia’s back. “Just a little faster.”
She panted and almost tripped. “I am not—” She took a quick breath. “I’m in terrible shape.”
“Panic doesn’t help.” Jack glanced over his shoulder again. They weren’t going to make the pre-arranged spot. “You see that thick tree, the one with the low hanging branch?”
“Yes.”
“That’s where we’re headed,” Jack said.
“Jack?” Marin shot him a worried look.
“It’ll work. It has to.” Jack tipped his head, indicating their pursuers.
By the time they’d made it to the tree, one of the men and the woman were within thirty feet. Just as Jack slid behind the large tree, hugging close to Marin and Sylvia, the first salvo arrived. A glass shattered against the tree and a fog began to coalesce and rise from the ground.
“Water and earth. The fog is just fog—probably to obscure sight.” Sylvia had caught her breath and spoke clearly. “But—ah—don’t touch where that potion landed. I’m pretty sure it’s a contact poison. Definitely not harmless.”