Sin's Dark Caress

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Sin's Dark Caress Page 9

by Tracey O'Hara


  Sweet, brave little Isabelle . . . Her broken body surrounded by candles and other thaumaturgic paraphernalia.

  “That little girl from the newspaper clipping?” she asked.

  He nodded. “When I was fresh out of the police academy, I attended a disturbance call.” The image of her body in that fleabag motel was burnt into his brain forever. “They weren’t witches, just wannabes. When I found her in that room, her innocence had been stolen, her face all swollen and mottled with bruises; her naked body abused, raped, and stabbed over a hundred times.”

  “Oh, McManus,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I saved her once, but I couldn’t save her when she really needed me.”

  The memory of her death reminded him of their latest case. There’d been so much blood. Yet the murder scene of the first eviscerated girl had been surprisingly clean. The coroner surmised she’d been murdered somewhere else and dumped.

  “Hey,” he said, sitting forward. “Do you think that first murder would’ve had as much black magic as the last?”

  “Probably, why?” Bianca asked.

  “If the body had been moved, would there be any way of tracking back to the original kill site using the residual energy?”

  The white witch’s eyes widened, catching where he was going. “It’s very possible, but I’d have to visit the scene to see.”

  “You doing anything right now?”

  14

  Dark Secrets

  Bianca followed McManus into the yawning entrance under the old rail bridge. She knew people lived down here, but like others, she’d chosen not to think about it. Someone coughed; there was a distinct rustle of plastic bags; a child cried and a newborn howled.

  “My Goddess, McManus, there’s children down here.”

  The detective didn’t answer.

  “How could they live down here with babies? It’s unhealthy, unsanitary, they should go—”

  McManus turned on her, his eyes narrowed in the glow of the flashlight. “Go where, Bianca, where the fuck do you think they should go?” His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “A homeless shelter? They’re overflowing as it is and can’t cope with more. Or maybe they should check into a cheap hotel full of junkies, hookers, and pimps. Surely that will be safer by far. But even that takes money they just don’t have. Or maybe it would be best to just ship them off somewhere else—make them someone else’s fucking problem. Do you really think they want to be down here in the cold and dark?”

  “No,” she said, stepping back. “I’m sorry, I just—”

  “You know nothing until you’ve had to live like this.”

  A child coughed nearby. A woman with haunted eyes peered out cautiously when he scratched on the outside of the makeshift cardboard hut. When she saw McManus, she slid the cardboard “door” open some more.

  “How you doing, Maria?” he asked.

  “All right thanks, Detective,” she said as a little girl, about two or three, dressed in a vest and a nappy, climbed into her mother’s lap. The woman opened her coat and wrapped the child against her so only her head was visible between her breasts.

  “Hey there sweetness,” McManus said, gently tapping the toddler under the chin with his finger.

  The woman smoothed down the little girl’s dark curls and caught sight of Bianca. Her smile slipped and her eyes grew cagey. Bianca realized the woman was some sort of Animalian, probably canian.

  McManus looked over his shoulder at her. “Don’t worry, she’s with me.”

  “She’s not with Children Services, is she?” the woman asked.

  “No.”

  Maria cast another suspicious glance in her direction and then turned to McManus. “You here about Angel again?”

  “That’s right.” McManus squatted on his haunches to meet her at eye level and placed the backpack he carried on the ground. “Do you remember anything more?”

  The homeless mother hugged her daughter closer and shook her head. “Sorry.”

  “You said Angel hadn’t been here long, and you didn’t realize she was pregnant. Did she mention anything about witchcraft or magic?”

  “Yes.” Maria frowned in concentration. “I overheard her talking to Fast Jimmy a couple of days before she was killed. She told him she’d pay him back all the money she owed just as soon as she got her first paycheck from that magic shop he sent her to.”

  “What magic shop?” McManus asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that bit.”

  “That’s okay, you’ve been very helpful.” He reached out and ruffled the little girl’s curls. “You be good for your mommy, okay?”

  She smiled around the thumb and then coughed.

  “Thanks again, Maria,” he said, coming to his feet.

  “Wait.” Bianca dumped her bag and peeled off her coat. “Take this for the little one.”

  Maria’s eyes darted to McManus, who gave her a slight nod, then she reached out and took it. “Thank you, miss.”

  With a quick nervous smile from the mother, the two of them disappeared back into their cardboard home. The detective slung the pack over his shoulder again and steered her away, moving farther into the tunnel.

  “That was a thing good you did,” he said softly after a moment. “If you’d offered the coat to Maria for herself, she would’ve refused. But these people can’t be too proud when it comes to their kids.”

  “I just had no idea they lived like this,” she said, looking around. She kept the flashlight tilted to the ground, but her eyes had adjusted enough to see shapes. Then there was more coughing, more moans and snoring. She turned to find him staring at her.

  “Okay, what now?” she asked.

  He held up a finger. “One sec.” He darted over to a lump of clothing by the wall.

  “Hey Harry,” he whispered. “I brought something for you and old Mae.” He pulled a bottle of cheap liquor from his backpack.

  The clothing moved and Bianca realized it was an old man lying on his side, wearing more clothing than she’d seen any one person wear. His lined face split into a toothless grin when he saw the bottle, but then it disappeared.

  “Old Mae ain’t here no more, son,” he croaked.

  McManus put his hand on the old man’s shoulder. At least it was around where his shoulder should be, but it was hard to tell with all that padding.

  “I’m sorry, when did she pass?” the detective asked sadly.

  “Hell, she ain’t dead, county took her.” The toothless grin returned. “Kicking and screaming she was too.”

  McManus hung his head for a moment and smiled. “So she’ll finally get that bad leg seen to. You enjoy this whiskey, but save some for her when she gets back?”

  The old man’s gummy smile widened as McManus gave him one last pat on the shoulder and rose to join Bianca.

  “Harry and old Mae have been down here a long time, more than most. Occasionally the county gets them into somewhere, but eventually they end up back down here. I don’t think they like being told what to do.” They glanced at where Harry now sat, gesturing to someone to come join him. “There’s communities like this all over New York; some are a mishmash of humans and parahumans like this one, while others are a little more exclusive.”

  “Should you really be giving them alcohol?” she asked. “I mean, won’t that just make the problem worse?”

  McManus sighed. “I know it seems wrong—but these people have nothing. A bottle can brighten a few hours, and Harry gets the DTs real bad if he goes too long without.” He hitched the pack higher on his shoulder. “Besides, there but for the grace . . . well, I’m sure you get the picture.”

  She did.

  Bianca heaved her own bag on her shoulder. “Let’s take a look at this crime scene.”

  McManus took her farther into
the tunnel. A faint light came from the opening at the other end, just up ahead. They could easily have come in that way, but then McManus wouldn’t have been able to talk to the “residents,” and she got the impression that was just as important for him. There’d been genuine warmth in his expression, especially for the old man and the little girl.

  “You come down here to help these people often, don’t you?” she said.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I do what I can.” Then he turned to walk toward the back of the tunnel and across the tracks.

  She watched him go for a few seconds before following. The man was such a contradiction in terms. Drug user, alcoholic, and yet he took the time to help some homeless bums most people refused to see. She’d known him for years, but after tonight she was starting to think she didn’t really know him at all.

  Stretched and tattered remains of yellow crime tape hung from the support pillars about three hundred feet from where the squatters camped. The faint remnants of dark energy still tainted the air and ground where the body was discovered. She squatted to open her black instrument bag and grabbed the thaumaturgic scanner. Now that she knew more about McManus’s past, she wasn’t about to let on that she could wield power. No, she’d do this the usual way tonight. Even though she could sense the traces of energy that felt identical to the other crime scenes, she scanned the site with the instrument.

  The readout screen lit up the tunnel with a cold blue light. She fiddled with the knobs until she got the readings right and then looked up at McManus. “We’re good to go.”

  She held the reader in front and followed the readings. The signal stopped and she turned around until she caught it again.

  McManus scooped up her bag, shouldered his own pack as he took the flashlight from her and gave a nod. The signal of the black spell moved away from the unconventional community and out onto the railway tracks. A rumble announced the imminent arrival of a train. The horn blasted from behind the bright mono headlight as the squeal of metal wheels on metal rails set her teeth on edge and they waited as the hulking train clattered passed.

  The thaumaturgic signature led them along the line and back to the city streets. She lost it a couple of time, but not the sensation; her sensitivity to magic had been enhanced since she bonded with Kedrax.

  The trail led through back alleys.

  “You’d think someone must’ve seen something,” she said to McManus. “There are some areas we’ve passed that are very public,”

  “People only see what they want to see. Besides, there aren’t too many people about now. We haven’t seen a soul. I’ve been wondering why they just didn’t dispose of her with magic.”

  “I was thinking about that. It’s not as easy as you think to destroy living tissue, not even when it’s dead. I think since this was the first time they used the ‘black,’ they probably didn’t have the control over it that they have now. If they used their own magic, it would’ve left trace evidence for me to track. Whoever’s doing this knows the magic signature is unreadable.”

  The black trace signature stopped at a door in a dark alley. Nausea hit her so suddenly, with a force that took her breath away and made her knees week. She reached out a hand to steady herself but stumbled. McManus caught her.

  “You okay, Sin?” he asked.

  “Yes.” It came out in a hoarse whisper. “It’s strong here.”

  He stilled and brought the flashlight up to examine the store. “This is it.”

  Bianca glanced at the silvered letters on the back door: WILLOW’S OCCULT AND APOTHECARY. “I’d say we just found Angel’s magic shop.”

  15

  Trinkets, Charms, and Talismans

  “I want to take a look around the front,” McManus said.

  “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

  They followed the alley back around to the street. Willow’s was the third store down.

  McManus shone the flashlight through the window, only to see shelves of books and trinkets. “If we look inside I bet we’ll find the murder scene. But we’ll have to be careful.” He stepped back and looked up.

  “That’s not likely to happen now with you suspended and me off the case.”

  “Follow me,” he said, and walked back down the street to the alley. “Are you coming?” he asked when she didn’t move.

  “You’re not going to do something stupid, are you?”

  “Probably.” He fished inside his pocket, pulled out a couple pairs of latex gloves and handed her a one.

  “You carry gloves in your pocket?”

  He smiled. “You don’t?”

  She followed him around to the back door again.

  “I’d bet money that window up there isn’t locked. Should be big enough for someone small.” McManus bent his knees and clasped his fingers together. “Here, I’ll give you a boost.”

  “No, no, no,” she said, backing away and shaking her head. “I’m not going in there.”

  “Do you want to find out what happened or not?” He put his hands on his hips. “You’re the only one that will fit.”

  “We could just report this.”

  “Fuck that. That jumped-up asshole from VCU can find this out for himself. I want to find out what happened to Angel and the others.”

  He was right. She wanted to see this through too. “Okay.”

  Bianca put the scanner in her pack and placed her boot in the cradle of his hands. He lifted her easily up to the window, but it wouldn’t budge. She closed her eyes and concentrated, reaching out with her mind. The lock clicked open and the window slid up. She hauled herself through the gap and into the store’s bathroom, then braced herself for an alarm to go off, but nothing happened. Could be a silent alarm. If so, she’d better hurry, as they wouldn’t have much time. She cautiously opened the bathroom door.

  Cartons and crates were stacked in the room beyond, and the door that led out to the back alley. She unlocked it for McManus, who picked up her bag and passed it to her before entering the shop.

  He went into the office to the right of the back room and after a moment came out. “There’s no CCTV or alarm that I can find. Strange for this day and age. Let’s take a look in the shop.”

  Bianca pulled the thaumaturgic scanner from her bag and turned it on. The readings were stronger as she moved toward the front of the shop.

  Trinkets, crystals, potions, talismans, and new age paraphernalia, all of it completely harmless commercial crap for human witch wannabes.

  “This isn’t one of our magic shops,” she said.

  McManus turned. “What do you mean?”

  “None of this has any power. The potions are flavored sugar water, the talismans are uncharmed trinkets made in China, and all these ingredients are innocuous.”

  “You’ve lost me,” he said, stashing a few trinkets into his bag. “Why would the trail lead here if it isn’t a place of power?”

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Making it look like a break in.”

  “O . . . kay.” She shook her head.

  “So this stuff is for saps,” he said, knocking some of the potions onto the floor, shattering them. “Fakes to trick the gullible.” He smashed a few more.

  “Not exactly. Some of this is real enough, but for a potion to succeed, it must be mixed by a practicing thaumaturgist. Even if a human were to mix a preparation to precise directions, it wouldn’t work. And,” she said looking around, “no self-respecting thaumaturgist would be seen dead in a store like this.”

  “So is it the right one or not?” McManus asked, getting more impatient.

  “There’s still a black magic presence coming from somewhere in the store.”

  She moved the thaumaturgic scanner around. She didn’t sense much until she came to a bookcase filled with harmless books humans bought, like the Moron’s Guide to Spellcasting an
d 101 Best Love Potions.

  “McManus,” she hissed.

  “What?” he said, searching through stuff on the shelves, not even looking at her.

  She placed a hand on her hip. “Come here.”

  His eyebrows rose as he stopped what he was doing and joined her.

  She touched a bookcase set next to the wall. “There’s something behind here.”

  He tried to shove it aside, but it seemed stuck firmly to the floor.

  “Here, let me.” She ran her fingers over the shelves, searching for some sort of trigger. In the thin gap between the back of the bookcase and the wall she hit upon what felt like a latch, and a jolt shot up her arm.

  “We should get out of here,” McManus said. “Now.”

  She felt it too. An overwhelming urge to be somewhere else, but . . . “Wait.”

  The spell was complex, though it didn’t have the same signature as the murderer’s. She didn’t even know where to start unweavingit.

  I’m here. Kedrax’s voice entered her head.

  With the dragon’s presence, her mind cleared and her training returned. It was enough to make unweaving the spell possible. Soon the urgent feeling to leave fled.

  “What the fuck was that?” McManus asked.

  “The reason they don’t need security alarms.” Bianca searched for any other security spells they might have inadvertently triggered, but there didn’t seem to be any. The arrogance of them. Her fingers flicked the latch and the bookcase swung open like a door.

  Images of the most vile things flooded her mind. She fought to breathe and staggered back, as she threw up a defensive spell around them both and she slammed the door shut before everything faded.

  Are you okay? A worried voice echoed in Bianca’s mind.

  “Kedrax?”

  I felt your pain.

 

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