Blood, Dirt, and Lies

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Blood, Dirt, and Lies Page 9

by Rachel Graves


  “I mean, we’ve been seeing each other at events, having meals together, he’s picked me up and brought me home from stuff but without the sex, how do you know?” She went on oblivious to my distress. It took me a long minute to catch my breath after nearly choking on alcohol. By the time I did, Anna and Isaura blew into the room.

  I mean literally, Isaura was an air witch, a pretty strong one, and when she came out with us she always came with a breeze. Everyone else in the bar showed bare skin or tight clothes, not Isa. Her dirty blonde curls brushed the shoulders of a fuzzy white angora sweater that went down past the hips of her long wine-colored skirt. The look would have worked at a restaurant or church and in both places she would turn heads.

  She amazed me with her ability to look stunning and fashionable without being thin. Before I’d started doing magic I’d been heavy. A size eighteen on a good day, I knew how hard it was to find stylish clothes to fit a body like Isa’s. Her body had curves in all the right places for a man and all the wrong places for fashion. The way she pulled off her sexy look was pretty impressive.

  Of course, Anna was impressive too. A cropped, cable knit sweater stretched desperately trying to cover enough of her body to keep her warm. It stopped an inch above a plaid school girl skirt where her flat stomach peeked out at the world.

  The plaid was bright red shot through with black and yellow stripes interlaced with the tiniest of white lines. Anna was older than me, in her thirties at least, and she pulled off the school outfit without any trouble. She looked every inch the fashion model she was.

  I got hugs from both of them before we all picked up drinks and headed to our usual table. Phoebe was silent about her man trouble, and dragged Anna out to the dance floor the first chance she got. Isaura and I stayed behind to catch up. She’d been busy dating Ben, Detective Auster, and we had a lot to cover.

  “How are things?” I started.

  “Things are good,” she replied, the two of us almost singing our words.

  “Uh-huh, just good?”

  “Can I gush? Honestly, please can I? Because I drove Anna over so I couldn’t gush in the car…” Anna made it clear she didn’t like the idea of Isaura settling down. All talk of Ben was practically off limits.

  “Gush,” I commanded.

  “He’s amazing, everything a girl could want and then some. He even learned Hebrew.”

  “Really?” Isaura was a Jewitch. She’d been raised by a good Jewish family, kept Kosher, and was devoted to the principles of her faith. She just happened to be blessed by the air god, Anu, as well. The mix confused me, but worked for her, which was what really mattered.

  “Yup, he came to temple with me, to meet my folks and he said he didn’t want to be lost the whole time. His accent is terrible and he screws up his verbs but…”

  “But you love it.”

  “I do. I totally and completely do. I love the way he didn’t ask for butter for his bread with dinner. I love the way he’s learning about my culture, I mean he’s wonderful.”

  “And you’re seeing him again tonight?”

  “Yup, I’m bringing lunch. The night shift crew isn’t all bad you know.”

  “Really? Have you met the new guy?”

  “Yeah. He’s okay but now I can’t sit at your desk.”

  “You sat at my desk?”

  “I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

  I didn’t mind, but I was hoping we could gossip about how horrible Amadeus was. Ben must have really captivated her if Isaura hadn’t noticed. Phoebe bounded off the dance floor while Anna was nowhere to be seen.

  “Water,” she begged. Isa handed her a bottle.

  “Where’s your other half?”

  “Dancing with some guy I’ve never seen before,” she answered between gulps.

  “Well if she’s occupied, are you going to tell me your guy trouble?” Isaura asked.

  “How do you know if you’re dating someone if you’re not sleeping together?” Phoebe asked, completely serious. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing so hard I missed whatever Isaura said.

  “I mean, he picks me up, we go volunteer, he drops me off, no kiss goodbye, but there’s that ‘I’ll see you next week’ conversation you have at the end of a date. Or we’re somewhere with the group and he offers to buy me lunch, just me, not everyone else. So we go and we eat but then it’s back to the group. I don’t get it, are we dating? Can I make a move here or what? How am I supposed to know what to do?” Phoebe looked positively lost.

  “I say you ask him.” I put down my glass, trying to look resolute.

  “Listen to Mallory, ask him,” Isaura agreed. “And now we go dance.”

  ****

  And we did, dancing until around eleven thirty, when Isaura pulled us all back to the table. Anna was breathless, beads of sweat standing out on the top of her head, making her red hair dark. Phoebe and I had danced hard enough to be panting but Isa was more reserved, no doubt making sure she didn’t look too terrible for her date.

  “You sleeping with him yet, Isa?” Phoebe asked.

  “Phoebe!” I shouted at her in shock.

  “It’s a legitimate question, it’s been what three months? About time,” Phoebe declared.

  “About time for you maybe; some of us have morals.” Isa laughed.

  “Morals aren’t as important as knowing you click with someone.” Anna sniffed in indignation, probably thinking about how she’d let Nancy move in after three dates.

  Isa wisely didn’t get into it. Instead we all wished her well and she left. I thought we were going to commiserate over another round of drinks but before we could get started a guy interrupted us.

  “Another dance?” he asked Anna.

  “Uh…” Her eyes opened a little wider, as if she were trying to see in bright light, not looking at a guy in a dark bar. Stranger than that, she hesitated. We went out dancing enough that I knew the drill; she danced, they asked for something more, and she told them she was a lesbian. I’d watched it, we all had. Phoebe and I waited patiently to watch it again. “I’m, uh, that is…”

  I looked at Phoebe alarmed, and she looked back at me confused.

  “All right, then let me buy you a drink,” the persistent, yet doomed, man continued. His features were lost in the gloom of the multicolored dance floor lights, but he didn’t feel like a vampire or something dangerous.

  “Um, about that, I really shouldn’t…” Anna looked to us for help, clearly torn even though she knew how to handle this.

  “Look, enough, okay? We’ve been dancing for the last seventeen songs. I don’t even know your name.” His voice took on a touch of an edge. She stepped back and he grabbed for her. There was a second when I thought it was going to turn into something violent, but then his fingertips burned bright blue on her skin and the moment changed.

  “I’m Anna. Let’s dance.” She pulled him onto the dance floor and away from us without looking back.

  “Well that was weird,” I announced to the world. Phoebe agreed. We danced for another hour. Jakob never made it to the bar and Anna never made it back to us. I ended up home after midnight pleasantly exhausted and curious about how her night turned out.

  ****

  Jakob climbed into bed beside me sometime around five. He muttered something about budget over runs and incomplete proposals. I think he did anyway. It was at least half an hour before I needed to get up and I was still asleep. When I finally woke up he was dead to the world beside me and the whole place smelled like a bakery.

  I headed to the kitchen, awake but groggy. I could function on five hours’ sleep; I just wasn’t good at it, but for some reason this morning I was awake. I had a muffin halfway to my mouth when I realized I wanted to go for a run. I fiddled with the stove for a few minutes, surprised Jakob had figured out how to work the oven timer when I hadn’t and finally gave in to the feeling.

  My mind kept going back to the place where we’d found Christine Sweeny’s car. Next week my schedule told me to r
un long, and I’d go for eight miles on the soft trails outside of Jakob’s place. This weekend I worked which meant skipping my run. But something about the park I could see from where we’d found her car drew me, and before I knew it I was dressed and banging on E’s door.

  Unfortunately, E had a guest. Bess, one of E’s very good friends and an old war buddy, was contentedly sipping coffee at the kitchen table. I apologized, as much as my sleepy mind would let me, but Bess wasn’t offended. She agreed to come along for all six miles, with no training, wearing E’s old shoes. Suddenly I didn’t feel too accomplished. We were in the car a few minutes later.

  “Where are we going again?” E asked. She was sipping black coffee sitting in Lara’s passenger seat as if going for a drive before six a.m. was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Rivermont?” There was no recognition on her face so I went on. “It’s a high-class neighborhood out by the river. I noticed they had trails when I was out there for a case.”

  “What kind of a case?” E never got over her interest in moral matters and blue laws. If I said the case had anything to do with underage prostitution she’d grill me for details.

  “Homicide.”

  “Eh, good running though?”

  “Hopefully.” That ended our early morning conversation. I’d done a little research on the area. Historically, Rivermont always had expensive homes, but the people who built them weren’t stupid or flashy. They built back from the river, in case of flooding.

  Then, to make sure no one blocked their view, they declared the narrow strip of undeveloped land a city park. A road curved beside all of twenty feet worth of leggy pine trees and bush. We parked on the side of it and stretched a little.

  Bess didn’t stretch, she just unfolded her long dark frame from the backseat of the car. She was British, with a wonderful accent that made even the crudest speech sound pretty but the way she stood ready to run reminded me of all the great Kenyan marathoners. I suspected I was in for a quick six miles. My self-esteem plummeted.

  The mulch on the ground kicked up as we ran. Not for Bess, though, she was using a bit of her earth witch magic to make the wood go exactly where she needed it to. Bess used magic to make the running easier, E used magic to keep warm. Earth and fire witches had power, support from a god. Death witches like me got…nothing.

  I pushed the negative thoughts out of my mind and concentrated on the two of them running in front of me. E’s hair was cut short by the same barber who took care of Jakob. Bess wore her hair close as well, but full in a thick halo of curls. I watched those bounce, looking from one neck to the other, hoping I’d get into the run soon. It wasn’t happening.

  My mind drifted back to the woman who’d never run with anyone again. Christine Sweeny, blonde, fit, and now, dead. Her car was found a few miles back, not far from this trail, but that was really all we knew. We needed to check out her office, find out more about her life, who she hung out with, where she went, how she lived. There was too much we didn’t know yet. I was so engrossed in thinking about Christine I didn’t realize it wasn’t earth magic I was feeling anymore.

  I turned a corner and ran smack into E. She caught me, shifting my weight and hers in a Judo step turned hug. When the movement stopped, I was standing a few feet in front of a man bleeding to death on the ground. My first glance told me his shirt was red; my second told me it had been white once.

  Blood seeped out of a half-dozen stab wounds, each one a ragged hole in the cotton fabric. Watching him the magic moved up a notch. His death was close, too much blood on his shirt, more on the ground and then something, a jerk, a spasm, maybe a heart attack. The magic felt good, a high like running only cleaner and I found myself working out of E’s grip.

  “You’re fastest.” Bess turned to her. “Go back, call 999. Gaia wants him alive.”

  E dropped me and took off, running faster than we ever ran together. Now the wood chips moved out of the way for her and when I looked at Bess her eyes were solid green.

  “He’s dying. Stop him.”

  I opened my mouth to argue with her, but the man on the ground jerked in a spasm and she ignored me. Her hands were on the body, well the man, he was still a man for a few minutes, holding the blood in place.

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Learn!”

  I put my hands on his shoulders, the only spots that weren’t painted crimson. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my focus inward and…stopped, fascinated by what Bess was doing. She ripped open his shirt and poured clumps of sand onto the wounds. In a minute her magic turned them from wet soil to bandages. He wasn’t going to bleed to death anymore.

  But a heart attack, or something like a heart attack was coming. It would be next and it would finish him. Doing magic was such a good physical feeling I didn’t want to fight it, but Bess knelt in front of me with solid green eyes seething rage.

  I pressed my eyelids down, shutting out her face, and concentrated on the magic. Hungry for more magic sensation the witch in me turned to her sixth sense easily, but then I did something different, something…wrong. When every part of me was screaming to help him over, help him die, I fought the other way.

  Like swimming against a current when you’re already tired my supernatural muscles fought me. I had to think, to channel the power when usually I rode it. I concentrated, blocking off death, fighting to hold it back like some mist. It took all of my concentration to fight my instinct but it was working. I could feel the man beneath me coming back from the edge, his death receding.

  The rhythm inside my head switched from a frantic erratic beat to a steady pulse and I realized it was his heart. Something I was doing calmed the organ. I didn’t understand any of it but I could feel it was working, and that made it easier.

  “Work around her,” an accented voice growled. I kept my eyes shut. My magic might be working but I suspected the hold was tenuous at best. Time shifted in the darkness behind my eyes. Other voices came to me faintly, but Bess’ voice stayed silent and all the rest of my senses were blocked out by the magic. I was one thing, death witch, and there wasn’t room for anything else.

  The body shifted beneath me, and I stood up to stay with it. I walked with my eyes closed but I didn’t stumble. With each step the magic slipped away. If he was going to die it would have happened back there, in the roots of the trees, underneath the branches. Here, on a metal gurney, about to slide into the back of the steel and plastic ambulance with its strange too-clean smell, death was very far away.

  I took my hands off his shoulders as they pulled him inside, opening my eyes. Already bags of fluid dripped into his veins and a team of EMTs hovered around him. He was going to live.

  I stepped back and the magic left completely. The high went with it and the world crashed into me. As always noise came back first. The world was an incredibly loud place suddenly: ambulance sirens, people talking, and several police radios screaming into the early morning quiet. My body rocked with all the sound, and E caught me. She was holding a bottle of something bright orange, offering it to me.

  “Actually, I’m okay.” I didn’t know why, but I was. Usually doing magic left me spent; I had to swallow some quick form of sugar or risk starving to death in a matter of minutes. I’d screwed up once, used too much magic without enough energy and ended up passed out, then in a coma. Sure, there had been drugs involved, and yes, it was a life-threatening situation, but I promised myself I’d never go back there. Which made it even stranger that I wasn’t shaky.

  “Uh-huh, not at all surprising.” She turned from me to Bess who was resting on Lara’s bumper. We were back in the street where I’d parked a little while ago. Or was it? How much time had I spent in a timeless place of magic? “If you’re handing out power I’ll take some.” E passed the bottle to Bess.

  “She needed it, you didn’t. All you did was run,” Bess replied before drinking deeply. Bess had given me power, earth witch power helping me be a better death witch. I was almost sorry I
hadn’t known that going in; I would have paid more attention to how it felt.

  “I could have stayed and cauterized the wounds. Your friend isn’t going to thank you when they scrub the dirt out.”

  “He’ll be alive, that’s all that matters.”

  We were quiet for a minute, Bess drinking, E waiting, and me, well I was looking around. We were at a crime scene; I recognized it from the chaos and the tape even if I wasn’t used to seeing it from this side.

  An unmarked car showed up and I deliberately turned away. Some detective had arrived, someone who wasn’t me. I felt protective of the man I’d helped, like this should be my case even if I hadn’t done anything but help the victim. But it wouldn’t be unless those stab wounds turned out to be some spiked tail of something I couldn’t name. No, those were knife wounds and my involvement was about to end. I turned back to the women in front of me, eager to push the thought out of my mind.

  “999?” E handed Bess a second bottle of sports drink, then opened one for me.

  “Yeah? What’s wrong with 999?” Bess asked after she finished a long gulp.

  “Well, we’re in the states.” E laughed.

  “What’s 999?” I asked, anxious to be in on the joke.

  “The English version of 911, someone got so flustered she forgot what country she was in.”

  “Piss off the both of you.” Bess stood up and watched the ambulance pull out. “He’s important, really important to Gaia and I don’t know why. So forgive me if I forgot the US just has to have its own bloody emergency number.”

  “Maybe,” E said, her eyes sparkling but I kept my mouth shut. Something had Bess furious, which probably meant something had the earth goddess furious. I wasn’t about to tease either of them.

  ****

  “Where’s your gun?” a deep voice asked behind me.

  “Lucas?” I turned around to find Lucas Brown, Detective Brown, standing in the weak sunlight.

  “I mean it’s a cute outfit but where do you keep your gun?” He looked at my running gear closely enough I blushed. The weather was a little warmer so I wore only tights and a loose top. The outfit didn’t leave anything to the imagination and there wasn’t any place to hide a gun.

 

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