Got Luck

by Michael Darling

  I started to wonder if MacPherson was into diamonds. It could all come down to how MacPherson was using his ample resources to help Amad acquire diamonds because they were building a Jeweled Gate. There was a lot of supposition in that. Dangerous waters.

  Still, I got excited and searched some more into MacPherson’s background. I quickly found that he didn’t own any jewelry stores that I could find. None of the commercial buildings he owned had jewelry stores as tenants either. I wasn’t sure how one invested in diamonds. It wasn’t traded like gold or silver or stocks or bonds.

  Crap.

  I needed a walk. I went downstairs and bought a late lunch and a soda from Qui-Gon. He had a group of thirty Koreans jammed into the cafe; otherwise, he would have chatted non-stop about everything under the sun. I went back up to my office and brooded over pork.

  Where would I go for a source of diamonds? I asked. Why, I would go to Barry Mallondyke, that’s where, I answered. He would have been a good source. So why kill the diamond goose?

  Other places to get diamonds would be jewelry stores themselves. And pawn shops.

  I logged in to the police database and ran a search for articles on diamond robberies.

  There were reports on diamonds that had inexplicably gone missing from shops. Reports on people detained or accused of stealing diamonds but released due to lack of evidence. Once, a suspect had been arrested with about fifty diamonds on him, but the case never went to the district attorney because the stones vanished before they were filed into evidence. Internal Affairs had gotten involved on that one. I also found reports of diamonds being packaged for shipping but never making it to their destination. Diamonds missing from safe deposit boxes. Diamonds stolen during house burglaries. Overall, it looked like there were a hundred ways diamonds had been stolen or gone missing. There didn’t appear to be a real pattern though. No particular type of story predominated.

  Then I found another article that caught my attention. A recent report stating that jewel thefts—diamonds in particular—had actually declined over the past two years.

  Poodle monkeys.

  I was out of lunch and out of soda and out of ideas.

  I went for a drive.

  It took only minutes to find the nearest industrial property owned by MacPherson, in the Wynwood neighborhood. I found the property at the back of a dead-end street. It looked like it wasn’t earning MacPherson a lot of revenue. At one time it had housed a distributor for imported goods of some kind. There was a chain link fence around the property, but the gate wasn’t even locked. The windows were boarded, but a couple of the boards had fallen off. The building was long but shallow, and it didn’t take a detective to see that the building hadn’t been used for anything in a while except as shelter for rats and the occasional vagrant.

  MacPherson’s next property was about four miles away. It turned out to be filled with workers prepping flower bundles for distribution. I parked up the block and scouted the place through binoculars, but didn’t see anyone I recognized. There was absolutely no security and loads of chaos. Nobody in their right mind would keep anything more valuable than a ten-dollar watch in that place.

  It was almost time to meet Erin at the Iron Foundry, so the day was looking up again. I checked the list of properties and there was another one a few blocks away. Worth a shot.

  The third place was tucked behind a solid vinyl fence. It had a gate that had to be opened by a keypad, and it looked like the buildings were compartmentalized into small units for storage. Each unit had a different number on its door and most of them had locks. Finding out what might be stored here would be daunting—but I made a mental note to keep this spot on the list for further investigation.

  In the meantime, I had a date with my wife and my best friend.

  Chapter Twenty

  Of Wards and Fire

  Erin screamed as two strong arms caught her from behind, grabbing her and lifting her off the ground. She struggled and kicked and threw her head back against her assailant’s face, aiming for his nose. She kicked between his legs while he had her in the air. The attacker started to put her back on the ground and she brought her heel down on his knee, scraped her foot down his shin and stomped on his instep.

  “That’s good,” I said. “Make a lot of noise and go for the vulnerable points.”

  Nat gave her a half-smile and a nod. Eloquent as any attacker could be. He came over and whispered, “I like her. She’s tough.”

  High praise from the man. There was so much I wanted to tell Nat. How this woman was my wife in a faraway land that was really just around the corner. How she and I were second cousins to an ancient race with magical powers. How something scary was on its way and we had to stop it, and he might end up in the middle without a clue about any of it. I just nodded. He clapped me on the shoulder and left the workout room.

  I said, “Remember you can also go after the eyes and throat. Especially if you’re face-to-face. Those bony knuckles of yours can deal some damage.”

  Erin flipped her hair out of her face. Her eyes were bright and there was a light sheen of sweat on her face. She had never had self-defense training and Nat had been willing to help.

  “You also have the element of surprise on your side. A bad guy won’t expect you to fight because you’re . . .”

  “Weak?” she interjected.

  “Beautiful,” I said immediately. That earned me half a smile. Only half? I forged ahead, “When it comes to the real thing, don’t pull any kicks or punches. Give them all you got. You might only get one shot.”

  “Tell me why we’re doing this again?” Erin asked.

  “Remember what we learned from Return of the Jedi?”

  “No. What?”

  “We learned you can be the most powerful sorcerer in the galaxy, but if someone grabs you and throws you down an energy shaft, you die like everybody else.”

  Erin rolled her eyes at me.

  “So, you teach me to use magic and I teach you to fight. It seems to me that if someone needs a few seconds to prepare a spell, then you have a few seconds to take them out with a punch or a kick. They can’t zap you if they’re unconscious. Okay?”

  “Zap me?”

  “What? Isn’t there a zap spell? I was hoping you could teach me a zap spell.” I did my best to sound incredibly disappointed.

  Erin crossed her arms and screwed her mouth up in a sour-pickle expression. I knew when to surrender.

  “I think we’ve had enough,” I said. “That was a good session. You did great. And I can tell you don’t like to sweat.” I threw her a towel and she patted her face. She was tired but she still looked perfect. How did she do that?

  “Women don’t sweat,” she informed me. “They glow. Or glisten. At worst, perspire.” She sounded more than just tired.

  “Was this a bad idea?” I asked.

  “Nope,” she replied. “I like anything that will help me kick your butt if you get out of line. And anyway, you called me beautiful.” There was that smile. The wicked one I liked so much. She threw the towel back at my face and headed out of the workout room. “Give me twenty minutes and we’ll go,” she said.

  I watched her leave the room and wished the next twenty minutes were already over.

  * * *

  I had a theory. “So are you going to teach me about wards?”

  We were home again and Max was making dinner. Erin had gotten cleaned up at the gym and emerged looking amazing. She had followed me in her own vehicle, which I found out was a Porsche convertible. When I turned down my sound system in my car, I could hear Belinda Carlisle cranked up in hers.

  Now the two of us were on the back lawn. The sun was down and if the vampires were out, they were hopefully very far away.

  “Wards are useful,” she replied. “They are placed on locations or objects more than people. You can put a ward on a pe
rson, but that can interfere with their shields, and they will have a hard time casting other spells. Wards keep spells or even entities from getting in. Or getting out. You can cast magic inside one or near one if it’s designed to let you. You can’t walk through one if it’s designed to prevent you. Wards are more powerful if they’re specific. You can cast a general protection ward but it will be pretty weak. On the other hand, if you cast a ward to keep a specific person out, it will be almost impossible to break.”

  “Good to know,” I replied. “So could Caimiléir put a ward on himself to hide his identity, for example?”

  “Absolutely. If the Alder King sent Madrasceartán to this realm to find him, she’d have a hard time sensing him if he’s warded to appear human.”

  “As a side effect, he wouldn’t show any Stain. His Stain is invisible to me because his power is hidden. But I can see the Stain on people he has touched. I meant to tell Keeper about that. I’m sure Caimiléir’s magic marked Mr. Mayer, and before that Milly and her husband.”

  Erin thought about it. “That answers a lot of questions.”

  “Caimiléir tried to kill me through Mayer.” Saying it out loud made it all too real.

  “Now I’m sure he attacked you during the Quickening.”

  It was impressive and frightening that he could do that. He must have been nearby, but he hadn’t even had his hand on my forehead.

  Erin went on like she’d remembered something she wanted to tell me earlier. “Your entire property here is warded like crazy. Did you know?”

  I looked around. I didn’t see anything.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I can feel it when I get close. Max and Sandretta are responsible for keeping this place safe, and they’re doing a great job. Thankfully, they didn’t set any wards against me.”

  “What happens if you encounter a ward that’s against you?”

  “Usually, you can’t move through it or cast through it. It can be painful to touch. Even lethal. You might not be able to see through it. Or hear sounds. Or you may only be able to see and hear what the caster wants. Really sophisticated wards will let some people cast through it and others not. Those can take hours to set up.”

  The king’s liondog didn’t have any problems getting in my house. “Sounds complicated.”

  “It can be. For now, you just need to learn some spells that are offensive.”

  “Oh, I’m offensive enough already. Ask anybody.”

  Erin’s laugh sounded deep in her throat, and I noticed how nice her teeth were in the evening light. Yeah. That’s what every guy looks for. A woman with nice evening teeth.

  “So what do you suggest?” I asked.

  “Well, one of the four elements we haven’t tested is Fire. We can see if you have an aptitude for that,” she replied.

  “Are you sure? I might burn the place down.”

  “I doubt it. We’ll stay outside just in case.”

  “What do I do?”

  Erin took my hand and held it in both of hers with my palm up. Her touch alone was magical.

  “First, just let a drop of power into your palm. Let it bloom and then cut it off. Try making the smallest speck of power you can and don’t feed it.”

  I concentrated but having her hands on mine was distracting. Finally, a blue glow emerged and pooled in the middle of my palm. Once I saw it shining, I stopped the flow.

  “Too much,” Erin said. “Take it back.” The power seeped back into my hand, reabsorbed by my interior reservoir.

  “Try again. This time anticipate it and cut it off right at the point it appears.”

  I tried. The next pool of blue was smaller.

  “Still too much,” she urged. “Try again.”

  I gradually developed a feel for controlling the power until I could make a miniscule droplet pop up into my hand consistently.

  “Good! Very good!” Erin was getting excited. “Now I have absolutely zero ability for this, so I can’t show you what it’s supposed to look like, but I have seen mages put on a fire symphony. They created the most amazing displays of controlled flame you can imagine. Everything from bouncing little fireballs to a whole flaming whirlwind. Almost anything is possible.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s give it a shot.”

  Erin still held my hand. “As you release just a speck of power, say the word, ‘Tine,’” she said.

  She was looking at my hand so eagerly now. I was just hoping it would work.

  I popped up a droplet of power and said, “Tine.”

  The erupting ball of flame just about took my head off. Erin’s reflexes were faster, but we both fell back instinctively and landed on the grass as the fireball went straight up into the air like a flare, only ten times bigger.

  Erin was sitting on her butt with both hands covering her mouth. She was trying to keep the giggles from overwhelming her and she was losing. I was trying to recover from the shock and wondering if I had any eyebrows left. I looked at my hands. Not a mark on them. Not even a sensation of heat. Erin gave in to the laughter and fell back on the grass, looking up at the sky and pointing.

  “It’s not that funny,” I said.

  “That was a little one,” she replied. “The look on your face! Your eyes were like grapefruits! I’m gonna die!”

  Yes, she was going to die. I was going to kill her. But the more she laughed, the funnier it got, and I started to chuckle.

  “I take it it’s not supposed to be that powerful?”

  She rolled back and forth on the grass. “No!”

  Overhead, about fifty feet up, the fireball was still going.

  “Whoa! We have to make it stop!” I said. “Someone’s going to call the cops!”

  “9-1-1!” Erin yelled.

  She was making me laugh too, but the ball of fire overhead worried me.

  “Hey! If the cops show up we’ll be answering questions all night. How do we make it stop?”

  Erin sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. Or tried to. She was still laughing, barely under control.

  “Foom!” she said and lost it again.

  I could take a joke but . . . “Seriously,” I said. I was sort of laughing and sort of ticked.

  Erin got to her feet and came over to me and held out her hand. I was reluctant to accept but she looked at me with toffee-colored puppy eyes. Darn puppy eyes. I gave her my hand and she dragged me down near the river. She squatted near the edge and pointed at a space about twelve inches in front of her. “See it?” she said. “C’mon. You’re supposed to have enhanced sight.”

  I bent over and tried to see. “I just don’t know what I’m looking for,” I said.

  Erin let go of my hand. She closed her eyes and I could feel her drawing power from inside her. As she spread her hands, I saw a trickle of water falling from her fingertips. She puckered up her pretty lips and blew some air at the water. The droplets floated out, slower than they should have under normal circumstances. Suddenly, they hit a barrier and shot out in a million different directions. They traced a lattice of fine lines, like a web spun by a million spiders determined to illustrate the word baroque. On crack. There was a basic form to it, but it was amplified and augmented by curlicues and fans and little zig-zags. The lines sparkled, iridescent.

  “Oh that,” I said.

  “That’s the ward around the perimeter of your land,” Erin said.

  “Pretty,” I said, looking into her eyes. “And that ward thing isn’t bad looking either.”

  “Flirt,” she said.

  “So the ward around the land is doing something besides catching water drops?”

  “I talked to Max, to ask him about the wards. He said the wards will keep magic inside, which is why the fireball you made stopped rising. It’s safe to practice outside that way. He also said the wards are always set so that anybody loo
king this way will just see a house and yard. Nothing special. They can’t see us or anything suspicious at all. It’s all hidden. You could be doing anything out here and nobody would be the wiser.”

  “So that’s why the neighbor lady refuses to be impressed by my barbecuing skills,” I said. “I was starting to get a complex.”

  We walked back to the patch of ground where we’d been and lay back on the grass together. Erin scooted over and put her head on my shoulder, which confused me. This is what a woman does when she’s not sure about a relationship? I pushed the thought away and watched the ball of flame roll and flash.

  “I’ll get you back for this you know,” I said.

  “You will?”

  “Probably. When you least expect it.”

  “Okay.”

  “How long do you think that fireball will last?”

  “Like any flame, it will end once it runs out of fuel and oxygen. There are lots of counterspells. I could douse it if you really want me to, water does that, but I’m kind of interested to see how long it will burn. It’ll be good to get a feel for the potency of your power.”

  “Potency,” I repeated. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Like everything else in life, some people have greater capacity for power or better quality. Potency. Or adaptability for using power for different things. We’re just finding out what qualities you have.”

  The fireball continued to spread flickering orange light across the yard.

  “Isn’t this supposed to be harder to do?” I asked.

  “It’s new to your conscious mind, but magic has been a part of you since birth. Some children can cast spells before they can walk. Your body has always had potential for doing this stuff. You just didn’t have the power or knowledge to use it before.”

  “So. Fire. Pretty hot.”

  “Ha ha. Fire is the element most useful for offensive spell casting. You can be deadly with other kinds of spells, but fire is pretty much a universal weapon. I wouldn’t want to battle you—especially after you’ve gained some experience.”

  Finally, there was a little pop! The fireball snuffed itself out.