Blood And Stone: A Novel in The Atalante Chronicles

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Blood And Stone: A Novel in The Atalante Chronicles Page 13

by Nicholas W King


  “Officer Masters,” I said, maintaining my grin. “So nice to see you hard at work. You put in such a difficult work-out this morning.” I picked up my cane and, as casually as I could, made sure to rest the tip of the cane on the casing of Majester’s computer.

  On Majester’s desk I noticed a couple of things that stood out over the general disarray of case files and coffee stains. One was a wood-framed picture of five men in tuxedos. Bart and Terry were in the center. They looked younger, maybe ten years or so.

  The other thing that caught my eye was a red velvet jewelry box. It was just large enough to have a ring in it. Majester caught what I was looking at and swept up the box in one hand.

  “Hope she knows who you are, Bart,” I said. “Be a shame for whoever gets that to make a huge mistake.”

  The acrid stench of burnt circuit boards reached my nostrils. Angela grabbed the files and started for the door. Whether she wanted to dip into the dick-waving contest going on, I couldn’t say. To be fair, after seeing her shoot down Magdelena, she would probably win. I made to follow her.

  Pointing to the computer on the desk, I said, “You might want to call IT. Looks like you’ve got a computer problem.”

  As I walked away, the two cops looked to each other and then to the desk. When I turned around at the door, the two of them were trying without success to get the computer up and running.

  “Big smiles, boys,” I said, saluting them with the knot at the end of my cane. “Big smiles.”

  Blackwell was waiting by my truck, the bed opened up and the box of files sitting in the back.

  “How’d it go?”

  I put my cane in the storage container in the bed. “I’ll tell you somewhere else,” I said. “Where’s Lester?”

  “He said he’d meet us back at your place.”

  “Remind me to thank him for getting me outta there.” We got in and started driving off. “Your car still at that the supermarket?”

  Angela nodded after buckling up.

  “Good,” I said. “I’ll drop you off. Meet us at my place.”

  Afternoon driving in Florida is an exercise in patience. The main thoroughfare to get me back to Tampa was jammed with people leaving Plant City for their homes outside the area. I barely paid any attention to the traffic after dropping off Blackwell. Driving by instinct, I let my mind wander over what I now knew of Majester.

  The bracelet had been masking his aura. For a mortal to have such an item was unusual. If Majester was trying to hide his aura, he knew that a wizard could see it. He’d also know that magical talent would appear in his aura.

  The Red King had been there with Magdelena, plotting their next ritual. From what she had said, the Red King was a means to an end. He’d been incensed by my presence. He’d devoted most of his spells to attack me. The Red King knew me, knew who I was. It wouldn’t be a stretch for a cop to learn about me from cops I’d worked with. Or from a cop in their own precinct.

  I was going to need an out soon. Catching and exposing the Red King was my best shot. I pictured that skull mask with the mesh wiring. A satisfying grin crossed my face as I picturing cracking that mask to pieces with my cane.

  Lester was waiting next to the gate when I arrived home. The sun was below the trees, casting orange and red highlights into the clear sky. As I unlocked the gate, Blackwell pulled up. I opened the gate. We all parked and huddled up.

  “Nico? Who’s that?” asked Lester. He pointed to the door.

  Standing in a guard position with her wand pointed at me was Persephone. She had a thoroughly disappointed look on her face.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  Chapter 14

  I pulled my cane from the bed of the truck. Angela and Lester already had their firearms drawn, but were holding them pointed at the ground. Persephone’s features tightened before she realized who was accompanying me. When her attention turned back to me, she gave me her hardest glare.

  “Why are they here?” she asked. I could see her teeth beginning to grind.

  “I’m working with them,” I said. I turned to the others. “This might take a minute or two.”

  Lester brought his sidearm up and aimed down his arm at Persephone. “Who is she?” he asked.

  “Persephone Blalock, Sentinel of the Scarlet Assembly,” I replied. “She’s a wizard cop.”

  “More like babysitter where it concerns you,” said Seph. She kept her eyes on Lester. “Put down the gun.”

  Angela drew down on Seph as well. She positioned herself to the right of the witch. “Please resist. It’s been that kinda day.” Turning to glance at me, she said, “You have a talent for pissing people off.”

  I shrugged my shoulders, which did nothing to make my ribs feel better. “We all get one special gift,” I said. “It’s a burden, but I’ve come to accept it.” Raising my hands, I said, “Guys. Put the guns down.”

  The deputies did as I asked. Neither my sarcasm nor my de-escalation skills did anything to change Persephone’s expression. “I should mindwipe you both right now,” she said.

  Before either Lester or Angela could react, I channeled some energy into my cane. The sigils came to life with a pulsing green glow. “Do that,” I said, “and I’ll take it personally.”

  Seph snorted at me. “Hollow words,” she said. “You know the laws. I’d be in the right to use magic on you and wipe their minds of your involvement.”

  I raised my cane and pointed the knotted end at the middle section in the door frame. There are a string of similar circles, about the size of a Kennedy Silver Dollar, on every inch of the door frame. Seph was right about my protection spells the first time she visited. But I always turn them on when I leave my home.

  “You should really watch where you stand,” I said, looking up and past her. Seph’s mouth dropped open for a moment when she realized what I was referring to. “Your shielding spells are good. Better than mine most times. But they’ll crack. And then I can’t be accused of using magic on you directly. The Sentinels can chalk it up to your stupidity at tripping my protective measures.”

  Persephone stood there stone-faced for several minutes. She looked to Lester. “You would let him kill me?”

  Looking grim, Lester nodded. “I’ll write it up as botched home invasion.”

  The Sentinel nodded her understanding and stared at me. Whatever anger she had felt a few minutes before had vanished. In its place was resignation. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “I will be back tomorrow, Nicodemus. Prepare for our judgement.”

  “Nighty, night,” I said. I used my cane to motion for her to step away from my door. She obliged and started walking toward the front gate. When I lowered my cane and released the energy I had been holding for the spell, I felt a sharp pain in the side of my head. A patch of my hair the size of a quarter floated away from me and into a metal box Persephone held in her hand. She closed the box, muttered something I couldn’t make out, and stepped into Sideways.

  “That bitch,” I said. My free hand rubbed the side of my head where the hair had been ripped out.

  “What did she do?” asked Blackwell. She jogged up to me and took a look at my scalp. She winced, which I took to mean she could see blood. Sure enough when I drew my hand back, it was wet.

  “She took some of my hair,” I said.

  “What would she need hair for?” Lester asked. He’d gone to the truck and grabbed the box of files.

  I didn’t answer them. I deactivated the protective spells and unlocked the door. After letting them in, I put my things down and locked up before reactivating the spells on the door-frame.

  “An explanation would be nice,” said Lester. His voice had taken on that commanding tone I enjoyed hearing him use on other people.

  “Some medical attention would be nice too,” I replied. “Meet me in the kitchen. I’ll fill you in.”

  Once we got into the kitchen, I pulled a beer from the fridge. I gestured with the beer. Both of the deputies nodded, so I
pulled out two more. Lester laid the box of files on the island. I handed both of them a beer. While they drank, I gave them the rundown on Seph and my troubles with the Assembly.

  “You really do have a talent for pissing people off,” said Angela before taking another sip from her longneck. “What does she need the hair for?”

  I answered her question by taking a sip from my beer. She gave me her Queen Victoria look.

  “So every time you’ve helped out the police...?” asked Lester. He was leaning over the island in the center of my kitchen.

  “I break the First Law,” I said. “The mortal world shall not know of our world.” I took a long pull from my bottle and finished it off. I went to the fridge and grabbed another one. “It was a fine rule, once.”

  “Exactly how long has the Assembly been around?” asked Marks. He rubbed his chin. “And why did she take some of your hair?”

  A throaty, raspy voice spoke up from out of nowhere. “Since before the Revolutionary War. The originators came over with the first wave of colonists.” Corvix appeared on the island. He ruffled his feathers and hopped over to my side. Both Lester and Angela nearly jumped out of their skins. Corvix turned and fixed his coal-black eyes on Marks. “The penalty is death.”

  “What the hell is that?” asked Blackwell, practically stammering. “And why the fuck is it talking?”

  “You’re a talking monkey,” replied Corvix. “But I won’t hold that against you.”

  I suppressed a laugh. Corvix getting shot by Blackwell for mouthing off would not help matters. “He’s my familiar,” I explained. “A spirit crow who agreed to be bound to me.”

  “And my Mistress hasn’t forgotten that,” said Corvix. My attention went back to the bird. My brow furrowed and I gave him a concerned look. “She said so just this morning,” the bird added.

  Lester chimed in after finishing off his beer. “I say this as someone who has seen what you keep in your office,” he said. “You keep the strangest things in your house.”

  “If you think I’m strange, you should see his porn stash,” said Corvix. He cackled, a sound like steel nails on concrete.

  Angela giggled and I covered my eyes with my hand. “Corvix, focus. Did you do as I asked?”

  The massive crow looked at me like I had asked if water was wet. “Yes,” he said. “First I need food. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

  I went to the fridge and withdrew a bowl of diced steak. “Raw or seared?” I asked.

  “Raw,” Corvix said. He flapped his wings twice and landed on the perch on the counter near the sink. I placed the bowl beneath the perch. It had hardly settled into place before my familiar started scarfing down bits of meat with gusto.

  “What did you ask him to do?” asked Lester. He couldn’t take his eyes of Corvix as the bird ate.

  I reached into the box of files and started laying out the case folders on the island. “Spirit crows and ravens are watchers and secret-keepers,” I said. “They gather knowledge the way we gather wealth. I asked him to dig up what he could on the night Cecilia’s body was dumped.”

  “And?” asked Blackwell. She was doing her best to ignore Corvix.

  “He’ll tell us when he’s done eating,” I said. “That’s half a pound of diced sirloin he’s chowing down on.” I went into the pantry and brought out a trio of stools for us. I replaced the empty beers for the two deputies and we all dug into the case files.

  * * *

  An hour and a half later, I exhaled slowly.

  “Christ on a cracker,” I said. Before either Lester or Angela could speak, I walked around the island. I opened up a cabinet above my bread box and removed a bottle of apple-barrel whiskey and three shot glasses. After pouring one for each of us, I downed my shot and poured another before the two of them had even touched theirs.

  After finishing the second shot of whiskey, I said with a cough, “The vampires weren’t involved.”

  “Magdelena certainly is,” said Lester. His eyes scanned over the crime scene photos littering the island.

  I allowed my gaze to travel over them as well. Five people gutted and dismembered, just like CeCe had been. They had been discovered all around Plant City. One of the names stuck out from the bunch.

  The second victim was Jobeth Masters, wife of ten years to Terry Masters.

  She’d been abducted from their home while Terry was out patrolling. I could see now why Terry was so protective with James. Jobeth had been murdered less than two months ago. The other victims were all drug traffickers, all of them part of the meth trade in Central Florida. The drug trade angle got my mental gears moving.

  “Jobeth Masters was a warning,” I said.

  “She’s the odd duck in the bunch,” said Lester. “Take just the other four— “

  “It’s consolidation,” interrupted Blackwell. “Removing the competition.”

  “Power is the goal,” I said. “Consolidation of the drug trade isn’t the goal.” I poured another shot and put the bottle on the counter behind me. After drinking the shot, I asked, “Corvix, what do you know about sorcerers?”

  Beak still bloody, Corvix flew over and landed on the end of the island closest to me. Before he could speak, Blackwell chimed in, asking, “You mean the wizard we ran into today?”

  “Not a wizard,” I said before turning my attention to my familiar. “Sorcerer. There’s a difference.”

  Corvix shot Angela a look as if daring her to interrupt again. To her credit, the deputy simply crossed her arms and waited.

  “A sorcerer is not a wizard,” said Corvix. I stared at the my familiar and wondered if Lester and Angela were unnerved that he spoke without moving his beak. “Nicodemus is a wizard. Sorcerers are the next step down.” Corvix turned his gaze to me. “What makes you think your prey is a sorcerer?”

  I described the spells the Red King had used on us during the fight. Corvix nodded. I could see he was also glancing over the case files we had laid out on the island.

  “Is that what makes him a sorcerer? The kind of spells he used?” asked Marks. He leaned forward over the island using his hands to prop himself up.

  “No,” answered Corvix. “Sorcerers can learn spells. But they can’t manipulate magic like a wizard does.” He ruffled his feathers and stepped closer to me. “Nico could hurl fire if he wanted to.”

  “Not happening,” I said. I sat down and leaned my chair back against the fridge. When both of the deputies shot me quizzical looks, I said, “It’s too uncontrollable.”

  “Because earthquakes are so precise,” said Corvix, snapping his beak at me.

  “How was I supposed to know there was a fault line so close by?” I asked. I waved a dismissive hand at the bird.

  “You were in California,” said Corvix. “The whole state is covered in unstable ley lines.” Snapping his beak at me again, he turned back to the others. “A sorcerer can learn a handful of spells, maybe half a dozen. Those spells will act the same way each time.”

  “But Nico’s spell looked the same,” said Blackwell. She had taken a seat away from the island. She seemed to understand the basics of what Corvix was outlining.

  “I can throttle my magic, so to speak.” I ignored another derisive beak snap from Corvix. “If I create an earth barrier, it can be as thick or as thin as I need it to be. All depends on the materials available and the amount of energy I channel.”

  “So, what makes the Red King so different?” asked Lester. He stepped away from the island. One arm was crossed under the other and he was back to rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger.

  “His fire spell,” I said. “Every time he used it, it was exactly three blasts of napalm-like fire. Same number, same size, same intensity. If it were me, I’d have added some juice to the spell and made the rounds denser to crack through the wall. But he learned it one way, and so it’s the same every time.”

  “Or,” said Corvix, “You could use a different element to counteract the barrier.”

 
Angela’s dark eyes rolled from the crow to me, comprehension slowly creeping across her features. “Are all sorcerers like this guy?”

  I frowned. “Typically, yes,” I said. The pain in my ribs had lessened thanks to the whiskey and the beers. “Most sorcerers aren’t found by the Sentinels until well after the bodies start piling up.”

  “But not all of them?” asked Lester. “They can’t all be psychopaths.”

  “They aren’t.” I said. “Some keep a low profile. Others get picked up at a young age and trained by the Assembly.”

  “As what?” asked Angela.

  “Healers or cannon fodder.”

  Angela looked horrified. Lester looked concerned for a moment or two before nodding. He understood what I was trying to say.

  Lester’s posture stiffened. He stepped forward and scanned over the assorted victims again. I had a feeling he was going to draw the same conclusion I had, but I waited for him to say it aloud.

  “What’s on your mind, Lester?” I asked after he’d taken several minutes to contemplate the evidence.

  “We couldn’t have been the only ones to see the drug trade angle.” Lester’s normal deep bass voice had a light, detached sound to it, as if putting any weight behind the words would make the implications too real too quickly.

  “Yeah,” I said slowly. “I thought something similar.”

  Both of the deputies stared at me, holding their breath.

  “You’re not gonna like this,” I said.

  I explained to them what I saw when I looked at Majester’s aura. I went into detail about the bracelet he wore.

  Corvix whistled when I was done speaking. How he could whistle with a beak instead of lips boggled my mind. It was a shrill sound, like a tea kettle left on the stove too long.

  “A cloaking charm,” said the spirit crow.

  “What is that?” asked Angela and I in unison.

  “The Vision allows a wizard to see beyond normal perception,” said the bird. “It allows the wizard to see other supernaturals.”

 

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