Bait & Switch (Driftwood Mystery Book 1)

by A. L. Tyler

  “He’s been busy being an asshole is what he’s been busy doing...”

  Bless Marge, always willing to say what everyone else is only thinking.

  Some months earlier there had been an epic car chase after a couple went on a hold up spree that had ended in Fallvale. Five gas stations and a liquor store in six hours, and the total take had been more than five thousand dollars. Problem was, when the couple was finally caught, they only had about three thousand dollars on them.

  And we didn’t know which victim’s cash it was.

  Were we supposed to give everyone a percentage of what they had lost? Pay back in the order robbed? Beech said he didn’t want us wasting resources and to push the legal research onto the officer who apprehended the suspects. After all, we were evidence custodians—not lawyers or cops.

  The officer in question was Bailey. And it was a huge surprise to everyone that he wasn’t playing nice with us, so the money continued to sit in our holding until a proper owner could be declared.

  Marge sat down to send him another harassing note. I went back to my computer. I checked the hall before slipping the knife into my purse.

  Marge told me her latest conspiracy theory about the murder while we inventoried and disposed of old drug cases, and afterward, she invited me to lunch.

  “I can’t, thanks. I’m actually meeting someone.” The words were out before I could even pause to consider my phrasing.

  Marge sat up straight. She peered at me over the edge of the computer. “You’re meeting someone?”

  Shit. “Just a guy. Not worth mentioning. Not even a friend.”

  I closed my eyes and bit my tongue. I was usually so good at this.

  “Just a guy?” Marge asked, unblinking. “Details, or I’ll make up my own when I tell Charlene. And if I make up the details, he’s going to be Italian, and tan, and rich, with an enormous—”

  “Marge.”

  She smiled crookedly. “—mansion in Florence. Details, Janet.”

  I shook my head. Be smooth, Driftwood. “Just a guy I ran into at dinner the other day. He’s kind of helping me work out some personal stuff.”

  Lies were a great weapon, but they didn’t hold a candle to the truth.

  “What is he? A therapist?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, kind of. Amateur.”

  She winked at me. “In bocca al lupo!”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Into the mouth of the wolf,” she said, mischief glowing in her eyes. “In Italian, it means good luck.”

  The mouth of the wolf...

  Those were the words that haunted me as I walked out of work that day. That was where that girl was—in the mouth of a vicious, growling, slobbering, inhuman and terrible beast. But I wasn’t done fighting yet, and I had to save us both.

  I stared around the parking lot, looking for Nick. My car was there, but Nick wasn’t. I’d had a bus ticket in my hand a few hours ago. Could he really be that stupid?

  But then I heard the tune playing slow and deep, and coming ever closer to me. Someone using a good deal of magic was approaching, and his raucous tune was nothing like the subtle silence of Nick’s wards.

  Another handler. And he had me in his sights.

  Chapter 16

  WHOEVER THIS GUY WAS, he sucked at his job. Or, maybe he hadn’t done his homework like Nick, because this guy had foregone all efforts to silence his magic.

  The spells he had on his person or his possessions were jangling like the chains of Marley’s ghost as he followed me down the street. I walked toward the alley behind the library that wasn’t visible from the parking lots.

  My palms were burning and there was a twitch of a smile on my lips. I had a one warning shot rule. If he still wanted a fight after that, hell, he could have it.

  He would have it, because my magic got a little unpredictable when I cut loose. I didn’t like to call on it often for that very reason. Asking for a trickle sometimes meant getting Niagara Falls instead.

  I waited until we were well placed between the dumpsters and the retaining wall by the hill before I turned to face him. He was a few inches taller than me with dark hair. Younger than I thought he’d be, but definitely too old for the emo look he had going on. But, he did look good in skinny jeans. I had to give him that.

  I called up a fireball and had to push my hand away from my face when a small bonfire threatened to pour out. The weight of it made my palm feel like it was made of iron. I wanted to drop it then and there, but I didn’t want to turn the Fallvale library into soot and ashes.

  “Go home, kid. You’re a little late to the party if you’re here to tackle me and tie me up. Also, you suck at sneaking up on people.”

  He laughed. “I wasn’t sneaking. I’m afraid I can’t leave, miss. I will, however, tie you up if you want. I mean, if that’s what you’re into.”

  Miss? Charming. I launched a small jet of burning, piercing blue flame at his feet anyway.

  Just a little, just a little! But the fire roared from my core and out my arm, and I had to steady one hand with the other so I didn’t shake and lose my aim. It made a lovely, low, bass-heavy rhythm in the ground around me.

  It relieved a pain within me, and I wanted more.

  The guy jumped and scrambled back, and I saw his lips move as he cursed and I laughed through the pain. I let it all flow out, grimacing like a maniac as fire poured out of my hands. I let it go much longer than I should have.

  When I finally reined it in, the weight of the magic in my core had gone straight to my eyes, and I fought to keep them open. I was drained. I barely had the energy to subdue the flames as they started to lick at the building next to us. And when the loud, echoing roar of my own magic died down, I could still hear the handler hiding behind one of the dumpsters.

  “Run away!” I threatened. My hands were shaking. If I had to pull that stunt again, right now, I was going to pass out. I didn’t have the stamina to command this much power.

  He stood up, peering at me over the edge of his shelter.

  Shit. He wasn’t running.

  He stepped out, taking a few cautious steps toward me. I lifted my hands and clenched my teeth. If I had to turn this guy into a crispy critter to save my own life, I could do it.

  Maybe. He jeans looked expensive, and that was really a shame.

  “Nick says you aren’t a killer,” he started. “You’re not a killer, are you?”

  I dropped both of my hands, sucking in a breath. “Damn it. Nick sent you? You need to announce yourself. Like, faster and louder than you did this time. I was about to deep fry you.”

  He rolled his eyes. His shoulders relaxed. “You were not. Anyone who is actually going to kill someone doesn’t give warning shots. And what was that? Am I supposed to be impressed?”

  My jaw fell open. “Yes!”

  “I’m not.” He walked forward and grabbed my arm. “Nick says that you’re not supposed to leave work until—”

  I hit him in the face with my free hand, feeling the satisfying crunch of his bones against the heel of my palm. He ducked and let go of me before I could land a knee to his groin, clutching his bloodied nose.

  Magic users. So out of practice where hand-to-hand was concerned.

  I stepped away and turned back, staring at him nervously as the ever-present jangle of his spells went on. There was a low rumble to them that suggested he had a curse at the ready, but he didn’t dare throw it at me.

  It was probably something nasty. Nick probably wanted me in one piece.

  Oh, well. Sucked to be this guy, then. “Tell Nick I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Shit!” The guy finally yelled. He glared at me, and the low rumble got louder.

  I turned and ran. His footsteps behind me said our fight wasn’t done, but he didn’t dare pull out all the stops and use a spell like that in the open where people could see. That was a surefire way to bring the attention of the Bleak raining down on this town, and woe to the summoner.

 
He had me by the arm again and I spun around to look him in the eye. My nerves were making my fingers itch with electric magic.

  “You need to let me go,” I said in a deadly calm voice. “Whether I’m a killer or not, I will kill you.”

  “Phinneas Kane.”

  He shoved something small and round into my hand. Confused, I looked down and saw a pocket watch. That was where all the noise was coming from. It was cursed.

  “What?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  “Phinneas Kane,” he repeated, slightly impatient. “My name. The watch is a gift from Nick to help you with your little problem.”

  I narrowed my eyes. If he didn’t quit it with the tone, I was going to show him exactly how little my problem was, and I didn’t feel like issuing a warning shot anymore.

  I really didn’t like Nick telling random emo strangers about my personal medical issues.

  “Mind doing something about my face?” he demanded in a low hiss. “Before the ants around here start to notice?”

  I had never cared for the term “ants” as it was used toward humans. Too many people in the hidden community of magic users thought of everyone else as some sort of expendable, uniform mass that simply went milling through life, none the wiser to the broader universe.

  They didn’t know because the Bleak kept it that way. It always came back to the Bleak, and the Bleak’s need to control literally everything and everyone.

  I whipped a pocket pack of tissues out of my bag and shoved it at him. “I don’t do faces. Sorry.”

  He snarled slightly before regaining his composure. “What do you mean, you don’t do faces? He said you’re one of the Bleak’s best.”

  “Was one of the Bleak’s best,” I replied testily. “One of their best spell breakers. If you want a healer, go elsewhere.”

  “You’re telling me you spent four years in the academy and you never learned a damn healing spell? Fifteen-hour days, seven days a week, and you know nothing?”

  I ignored him and went about examining the sounds coming from the watch. Of course I knew some basic healing spells. It didn’t change the fact that my new magic meant I would probably blow his head off while trying to perform one.

  I inspected the watch in my hands, turning it this way and that like a Rubik's cube until I had all of its angles. Then, with a single wave of my hand, I caught the broken notes and cast them out.

  The song was beautiful again.

  Phineas Kane was impressed. “That’s it? You’re done with it?”

  I dropped the watch back in his front coat pocket as he mopped up the blood on his face, leaving the wad of tissues stained bright red. “Again, tell Nick I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Phineas Kane.” He shuffled the tissues into one hand to offer me the other. His blue eyes practically glowed as he stared at me.

  Slightly grossed out but wanting to leave, I shook. “Bye,” I said, turning to go.

  “You’re not going to tell me your name? That’s impolite.”

  “You already know my name,” I said. “Because you’re spying on me. So, you kind of started the impoliteness. Again, bye.”

  “Okay!” he called after me as I left. “Fine then! Be that way! I can’t run a good con without my dashing good looks, anyway. You’re bad for my nose. I’m out.”

  I checked the parking lot again and found my car, figuring that Phinneas had probably driven it there to collect me. The watch had been nice. The release of the fire had been nicer.

  And even so, I felt like I still had more in me. It was building faster and stronger these days, especially with my anxiety running so high.

  I sent Marge a text that I was sick. I would square my hours with Beech tomorrow... I closed my eyes and shook my head. It didn’t really matter if I squared it or not. I had to move on from here if I wanted to stay alive.

  After I found that girl. I tried to steady my breathing, because I knew the warlock had to be waiting for something. If he could just do his spell whenever, she would have been dead with her father.

  The full moon was approaching. After it, the new moon. The equinox. Maybe something astrological...

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. Who knew what he was waiting for. I was fostering a hope for something that might not even be true, because factually, that girl could already be dead.

  But as long as no body had been found, there was still a chance she was alive.

  I pulled the spare key from the magnetic box behind my rear driver’s wheel and got in, hanging my hand out the window and leaving a trail of ice crystals behind me.

  I needed to give Nick a piece of my mind and the knife in my bag.

  WHEN I MARCHED THROUGH the door of Nick’s apartment, he was sitting at the kitchen bar looking at printed photos and swigging from a beer bottle. I threw my bag onto the counter in disgust.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be catching a murderer?” I was seething. Somewhere, there was a child lost in all of this.

  He raised an eyebrow at me, staring at the open door behind me. He waved a hand and I heard the magic, like the stroke of fingers on harp, blow past me to shut it. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work? Where’s Kane?”

  “I killed him,” I said without blinking.

  “Liar,” Nick croaked, taking another swig from his bottle. “You got the knife?”

  My eyes fell on the bottle. Vampires didn’t drink beer. They didn’t drink anything but blood. I’d never met one in person, but everything I’d ever read suggested they found normal foods unappetizing after they became afflicted. “Are you drinking that for my benefit? Is that supposed to make this less weird?”

  He drank again. “No. Why? Is it helping?”

  My stomach churned and I frowned, because I could smell it on the air now. “There’s blood in that bottle.”

  He raised his eyebrows with a little nod.

  “That’s really gross.”

  “You’re saying the bottle was helping.” His smile made my fingers itch. “The knife, Driftwood.”

  I pulled it from my bag with a glare. Nick immediately frowned. He took it from my hand to examine it.

  “You’re right,” he said. “If I was going to kill a guy, this seems like the least efficient way to do it.”

  “No prints,” I said. “I would have brought new reports if there were any, but that’s it. No prints.”

  “Wiped.” Swig.

  I cringed. Yes, I would have liked to go on thinking there was beer in that bottle. “Or gloves. Do you really have to do that right now?”

  He looked right at me and took a deliberately slow drink. He set the bottle on the bar between us before speaking.

  “You eat in front of me. And believe me, it’s just as disgusting.” He leaned back, still studying the knife. “Also, you’re supposed to be at work. Did they find gloves?”

  “No.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Could you find the gloves? Or whatever was used to wipe it, as I assume they didn’t find that either?”

  I crossed my arms. “Me? How?”

  He exhaled a laugh. “I’m not a scholar, but I’ve been told you absorbed about five hundred years of the best magic the Bleak had. You can’t use it to do a simple finding spell on the blood of the victim?”

  A simple finding spell. That was like attempting to use a fire hose to water petunias and expecting nothing to get damaged in the process. The way this magic worked, my target could blow like an atom bomb if I thought too hard.

  And Nick was looking at me like I was the idiot here.

  I tried to organize my response so I wouldn’t sound so amateur. “I suppose I could, in theory. I haven’t ever done something like that before.”

  His gaze became critical. “What have you been doing with all of that power? Besides killing yourself?”

  I shrugged, looking away. My work as a breaker had been more focused on managing existing spells than creating my own work. What I was planning for my stolen magic and my father’s escape was my business,
and no amount of goading would ever get me to say it aloud.

  Even so, I was more of a book person than a hands-on type. I had read about finding spells. I knew what was required, and the premise of how they worked, and I could probably identify one and explain how to perform one in a heartbeat. I would need to do one when it came time to free my father.

  But I had never actually practiced one before.

  My silence hung in the air.

  Nick’s unflinching stare bore into me. “You’re the dumbest smart person I have ever met.”

  I set my hands firmly on the bar, sneering as I formed my response. When the apartment door slammed open behind me, Nick jumped and pulled his gun faster than I could see.

  Surprised sparks shot from my fingers, igniting the photographs before me.

  Chapter 17

  NICK RE-HOLSTERED HIS gun and he started beating down the flames. I clutched my hands to my chest, horrified.

  That could have been it for Nick. A slightly stronger reaction, and a slight change in aim, and I would have been a murderer. While I didn’t think Nick would have been a great loss to the world, I didn’t know how I would have felt about crossing that line.

  I cast one glance over my shoulder and saw Kane’s amused grin turn to dismay as he rushed forward to help Nick put out the fire. Then I ran to the bathroom down the hall to try and calm my nerves.

  Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold.

  The horror in my brain was a bad mix with the annoyance and anger I felt right then.

  I wasn’t a criminal. Not even close. In my heart, I was still fifteen, living on charity and hoping to the higher powers that I would score well enough to get into the Bleak’s academy someday. Certain shelters had televisions. I used to watch dramas about what it was like to be a normal teen worrying over book reports and boyfriends. Oh, what a life I would have if only I could be that vapid...

  The bathroom door creaked open behind me.

  Kane was leaning in. He looked almost pleased with himself.

  “You know, you really should get that looked at.”