Witch on a Roll

by Evelyn Snow

  I fell back a step, surprise rippling over me. “Wait, you can’t be a—”

  “If it’s not too late, I can still help her.” Excitement filled his voice. Stretching out a translucent hand, he intoned, “By tree and lawn—”

  “STOP!” I fumbled in my backpack for a wand, any wand. Where was it? No time. I gave up searching for the wand and launched a hasty spell.

  “—show me where she’s gone.”

  Too slow. Without a wand, my spell had also been too weak compared with his. Worst of all, I had to face the reality that my ghost was not only a wizard who had somehow hung on to his powers after death, but also a powerful one.

  Most witches and wizards drew their powers from the natural world. As a result, they needed a physical body of some sort to use as a channel for their power. A ghost didn’t have enough substance to be effective magically.

  How was Dead Guy calling power?

  Later, when it wasn’t after midnight, and I wasn’t shivering in the dark with a whacked out renegade ghost wizard, I planned to spend happy hours in the Battenborne library researching the topic.

  In the meantime, I had a bigger problem.

  While Dead Guy’s spell hadn’t brought back Echo, that didn’t mean it had failed. The spell had worked spectacularly well.

  The air above the blasted house now swirled with dark magic. It must have been there all along. I hadn’t been able to see it against the shadows. Thanks to the spell, a faint glow blanketed the entire scene. Billows of dark magic hovered above the ground in a deep red and purple fog. It moved in waves like a diaphanous ocean with neon green foam bubbling at the tops of the waves.

  After I slipped under the yellow tape and moved closer, I noticed there was a vibration to it. The thrum of magic rippled over my skin. I backed up a few feet. Even at what should be a safe distance, there was a quality to the magic that was rough and smooth at the same time. It made me feel itchy and uncomfortable, on edge. I ground my teeth. My fingers curled into fists. If I’d been born a shifter like Holden, I would have snarled. Anger rushed through my core like a geyser to shoot out the top of my head. It washed my skin with heat and fire. The grim focus of deadly purpose sunk claws into my mind and whispered vile things.

  Fight or flight. Bring it. I was ready, aching for battle.

  I rocked onto the balls of my feet, my senses keen and searching. Uncle Delano thinks he can forbid me anything? Let. Him. Try. I’ll rip his heart out and finger paint with—

  No.

  No. I shook my head, seeking escape. Freedom. Air. Anything, if it meant getting away.

  I tried to step backwards. My feet didn’t want to go. I made them lift, dragged them over the wet grass, inch by inch until the pull of evil eased.

  When I was free, I sucked a long breath. The air was smoky and thick, tasting of ashes and death. Even then it was cleaner than the magic.

  Whoever had created this power had drawn on deep and dark sources. It was like nothing I’d ever imagined or experienced.

  If Dead Guy was telling the truth when he said it was all his fault, then he was a sorcerer. They drew power from death magic. It would also explain why anomalous readings on this side of the Pale had been picked up from as far away as the bridge.

  “Did you do this?” My voice was shrill with tension. “Are you responsible?”

  Chapter 15

  “Responsible for what?”

  The male voice came from the opposite direction. I whirled to see the source standing a few feet away. Where had he come from? I’d been certain there hadn’t been anyone else here—at least, no one that still registered among the living—unless toxins in the magic had affected me more than I’d realized. To be on the safe side, I edged further away from the house.

  “Hey, you!” Dead Guy waved at the newcomer. “Have you seen Echo? Can you help me find her?”

  “You’re wasting your time,” I said over my shoulder. “He can’t hear you.”

  “Are you talking to me? Because I can hear you.” The very-much-alive man appraised me with a sharp and curious gaze.

  He was just under six feet, fit and broad-shouldered with what I guessed might be dirty blond hair that was several inches long. In the uneven light of the full moon, it was hard to see details. He was dressed in a rumpled jacket with a plaid shirt and khakis. The bottom six inches of his pants were wet and stained from the soot and debris of the burned house, suggesting he’d been here long enough for a look around. His jacket hung open, revealing a badge fixed to his belt. It was too dark to make out the designation, but it was obvious he was some variety of law enforcement, probably a fed.

  Weaving together a few clues from recent conversations with my uncle, I took a shot. “Dylan Maddox?”

  He blinked. “Have we met?”

  “You might know my uncle. He’s the editor of the newspaper.”

  “Oh, right. Delano. He’s a good guy. And you are?”

  “Evangeline Jinx.”

  “What brings you here, Ms. Jinx? Isn’t it a little late for a reporter to be out?”

  My mind raced, trying to figure out what I should say. Pretending to be a reporter would work. Uncle Delano would be more than happy to cover for me if he thought it would bring me around to his way of thinking. My new leaf, though, was about the truth. Lying on my first assignment wasn’t a great start.

  In my peripheral vision, Dead Guy jumped up and down while his mouth moved. As long as I kept my gaze on the living, I couldn’t hear the dead—definitely a plus when I suspected all I’d hear would be insults.

  “No,” I said at last, pivoting slightly to block my view of Dead Guy’s antics. “I don’t work for the paper.”

  “Then you must be MBI.” Maddox said it straight out like it was a foregone conclusion. He didn’t ask to see my badge. I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted, honored or confused. I settled on confused.

  “Why would you assume I’m MBI?”

  His brows winged upward. “Seriously? A pretty woman decides to take a late-night stroll to check out a fire that took two lives. It’s the same site where I’ve been sent to check out reports from neighbors about seeing mysterious orbs. Then I find the woman talking to the orbs.”

  Did he just call me pretty?

  He huffed a short cynical laugh. “Plenty of people are in denial about Disclosure. I’m not one of them. The only thing that surprised me when I arrived was that I was here first. You’re late.” A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Although I’m glad it wasn’t one of the guys.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right, that is a stretch.” I motioned at the empty lawn chairs across the street. “Although you might have had company. People still find entertainment value in disasters.”

  “As long as it didn’t involve anyone they care about and it wasn’t their house that burned,” Maddox said. “If there’s anything you know about what might have happened here, I’d appreciate it if you’d read me in.”

  Tonight wasn’t this dude’s first go round with the newly dead or the MBI.

  “Did you say two people died?”

  Dylan consulted his notepad. “One male and one female based on preliminary reports. Is your count different?”

  “No argument from me. As for the MBI’s interest, we’ve got a soul here that hasn’t moved on.”

  “Which one?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Inquiring minds, that’s all. You can see into another world. I’m fascinated.” The way the skin around his eyes crinkled might have been charming if he hadn’t been working it so hard. That and appealing to my vanity. It was a good thing this guy wasn’t a wizard. With a little magic flowing in his veins, he might be dangerous.

  “Actually,” I said, deciding there was no advantage in being cryptic, “the soul isn’t the only reason I’m here. There’s a significant amount of dark magic present and that’s a big problem.”

  “Scavs,” he said flatly, referring to scavengers who trafficked in contraband magic.
The conducted a lucrative business through collecting traces of magic—light or dark, they weren’t picky—and selling it on the dark market.

  “This is a huge haul. It’s only a matter of time before sniffers find it.” Sniffers were the shifters who worked for scavs, locating caches of magic.

  “I was afraid of that.”

  Buying and selling magic on either side of the Pale was illegal. Cracking down on the trade on this side was rare, though. Most human law enforcement agencies, even ODiN, looked the other way. The ranks of Greater World agencies included very few agents who could deal with magic in any sense, and that was assuming they could identify it in the first place. Most couldn’t and deferred to the MBI.

  Agents from the MBI or Rhiannon’s Wheel were equipped to manage magic, but their numbers were small. The sheer scale of the problems they faced on this side could be overwhelming. It wasn’t called the Greater World for nothing.

  Considering the amount of dark magic at this site, I could see why ODiN would be interested. My problem: Dylan Maddox claimed he was here to check out reports of orbs. Only click-bait sites cared about strange lights in the night.

  Also, Maddox had arrived first. The dark magic hadn’t been visible until after Dead Guy’s spell, which suggested Maddox had been watching from the shadows. When I’d first arrived, I hadn’t detected the human’s presence. Either I was falling down on the job or he was very, very good for an ordinary.

  Why was Dylan Maddox really here? The feeling of being in over my head abruptly stretched wider and deeper.

  “Yo, witch girl!” Dead Guy shouted. “Ditch that idiot! I need your help.”

  “Will you shut up and give me a minute?”

  Maddox said, “You weren’t—”

  “Talking to you? No.”

  “Ah, your ghost, then. Does he have a name?”

  “He doesn’t remember,” I admitted, “which is not all that unusual for the recently deceased. With any luck, it’ll come back to him soon.”

  Smiling, Maddox continued jotting in his notebook. That smile annoyed me. Time to get back to business.

  “I’ll need to get a crew in here as soon as possible to deal with the contraband.”

  “Not until we’re done with it.”

  “When will that be?” I asked.

  “Day after tomorrow. Maybe the next day, depending on local resources.”

  “In the spirit of full disclosure, who’s we?”

  He studied me for a long moment with an expression that suggested he wasn’t likely to crack or cave.

  “I’d like to hear you say it.,” I said with a shrug. “Professional courtesy and all that, unless you have some other motive…”

  “Special Agent Dylan Maddox, ODiN. But you knew that.”

  “True.”

  If I couldn’t trust an ODiN agent, I couldn’t trust anyone. The whole “trust no one” attitude was my default. It would have helped, though, to have some training under my belt instead of being thrown into the field and forced to improvise.

  “We’re on the same side,” he said.

  I didn’t know where to go with that one, so I left it alone. “You lucked out with the bridge closure. That means the site is likely safe for the time being. If the magic isn’t cleaned by the time the bridge reopens in the morning, it could be crawling with sniffers by noon. Scavengers won’t be far behind. My crew will need access to the crime scene tomorrow for the cleanup.” I had no crew. I didn’t know if the MBI cleaners amounted to a crew, but I liked the sound of it.

  “Here’s the thing,” Maddox said, “I haven’t worked with the MBI that long, but even I know a closed bridge means cleaners can’t get here until it reopens.” He shot me an assessing look. “What if it doesn’t reopen?”

  “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “Or do you plan to do the cleanup job by yourself?”

  Now he was just making me mad. “If you give me your badge number, I’ll think about telling you.”

  Reluctantly, he removed the badge from his belt and held it where I could see his name and number. After making a mental note, I said, “Cleaners will be on the way as soon as I can get a message to them.”

  “And if the bridge stays closed?”

  “I’ll do it myself or do you have a problem with that, too?”

  “Ms. Jinx,” Maddox said, “I don’t care who gets that stuff out of here as long as somebody handles it.” As he gestured at the burned house, a purple gust of dark magic wrapped itself around his arm in a shimmery purple fog. I waited, watching him closely. Even from a few feet away, the stuff on his arm made me grind my teeth. I had to stifle the urge to find someone to slap. I wouldn’t have to go far.

  Maddox didn’t escape the effect, either. A muscle jumped in his jaw. With his hand outstretched, his arm began to tremble. Was he testing himself? If that’s what he was doing, it wasn’t the smartest move. The effect magic had on ordinary humans could be as deadly as it was unpredictable.

  “Don’t—”

  Waving off the warning, Maddox said, “Don’t worry? Because dark magic doesn’t rattle humans as much as it does supernaturals?”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  He looked puzzled. “Then what?”

  “I was going to warn you not to touch it. I didn’t know if you knew it was on your skin. Some people can detect magic; others can’t. I didn’t want to assume.”

  “Here’s how I see it—dark magic is a virus.” He lowered his arm. “Only instead of spreading a disease, it infects anyone it touches with evil and violence. We’ve already got enough of that in this world. We don’t need any help from yours.” He pulled a short length of mage rope from his pocket and rubbed it over his hand and forearm where the purple foam had touched. I’d never seen mage rope used that way before.

  “That’s a good idea,” I offered, “using mage rope to remove toxins and protect against magic.” It also explained why I hadn’t detected him earlier.

  Carefully, he coiled the rope and returned it to his pocket. “I don’t care about protecting your precious magic. I care about the monsters who track it and sell it. They leave a trail of death and destruction behind them. Honestly, I don’t want them in this world. If closing that bridge forever meant shutting them out, I’d be all for it.”

  “Good to know where you stand. Who’s going to be here tomorrow?”

  “Even though the prelims suggest this was a gas line explosion, the locals say arson will investigate.” He flipped a page in his notebook. “I don’t have a time, but they’ll be here early. Probably homicide, too. I’ll stop by again at some point to log their findings, so I don’t have to wait for the official report.”

  “Will arson have an opinion about the orbs?” I couldn’t resist.

  He smirked. “Every detail helps.”

  “I’ll be putting up a perimeter wall. It’ll stop sniffers and scavs if they get here first, but it will also—”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “You know as well as I do that scavs could be here at any time. When they do, they’re not going to stay at a safe distance. They’ll cut through anyone in their way. Is that what you want?”

  He tapped his pen against his notepad. “I was in Wichita.” The city was where an MBI agent had failed to follow procedure. A cache of dark magic had been lost along with the lives of three police officers.

  In the end, ODiN investigators had captured the killers. The resulting enquiry sent the disgraced MBI agent to Ecuador. Relations between the MBI and ODiN had become strained to say the least.

  “All the more reason to have a perimeter wall,” I insisted. “It might slow your investigation, but it saves lives.”

  “You’re right, the wall will stop scavs. They’ll keep their distance and stay in hiding, which only makes my job harder.” He shrugged. “No wall means they might not be able to avoid the temptation. When they do, they’ll be arrested. Might go against your rules, but it’s cleaner that
way. Simple.”

  Nothing about magic was simple. He worried I might set the perimeter wall to keep the magical haul for myself. I couldn’t argue the point because, technically, he was right. What I could never prove was what I would not do.

  “Any chance Montemar PD will help out?” I asked.

  “I plan to ask. Whether they help or not is anyone’s guess. As long as this looks like a utility accident, they’ve got better things to do.” He nodded at the site. “Can I take your statements as confirmation we’re looking at the equivalent of a magical gold mine?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “I don’t have any way to give you specifics about the magic present or where it came from other than telling you what you already know—it’s bad news. For a haul like this, scavengers would do just about anything.”

  “Including killing for it?”

  Dead Guy lunged against his invisible tether.

  “Looks like they already have.”

  Chapter 16

  “Wake up, Wolfie.”

  Holden grunted and started to roll over. The couch he’d been sleeping on was too narrow. He tumbled over the edge and landed on his side on the floor with an oof. Instead of sitting up, he tucked his knees to his chest and nestled against the carpeting.

  “Come on.” I jostled his shoulder. “I need your help.”

  He grunted again. “Go ‘way.”

  “I got two hours of sleep last night, and I’m not in a good mood. If you don’t get off your butt in the next two minutes, I’m taking that bad mood out on you and, trust me, you won’t like it.”

  “Whatever,” he grumbled. But he sat up and leaned against the couch, staring at me from bloodshot eyes set in a face full of dark stubble. That eclipse last night must have been a rough one. At least he was semi-vertical. Progress.

  “Come on. Get dressed.” I wrinkled my nose and sat on the edge of the sofa. “Scratch that—take a shower first. I can wait. You smell like a brewery.” Actually, he smelled like a wolf that had been roaming the woods for days before dragging his carcass through a brewery.