“The postmark.” Annie pointed to the envelope beside Milo’s shaking hand.
“Yes, well, that would mean he had help. Whatever Jack finds will rule him out or implicate him. And why would you think Sturtagaard?” Milo sighed, clearly exhausted merely by working.
Annie glanced at Spencer. He wore the same worried expression she did.
“He wants to come back to the U.S. and needs our approval to do so,” Spencer suggested. “Though that was never a condition of his release.”
Milo adjusted himself, pulling his back straighter. He rested his arms on the desk. “Since he could come and go as he pleases, has he been back to the States? I’d be wary of his motivation. I don’t recall him stepping foot back on U.S. soil since he scampered away.”
“He hasn’t. This is exactly the kind of thing he’d do though,” Annie replied. Milo closed his eyes again. He clenched his fists and reopened them as if trying to regain circulation in his hands.
“You okay, Milo?” Annie asked.
“Fine. Fine.” He opened his eyes and removed his hands from view, placing them in his lap. “What about Stonewell? He’s been missing since before Rathbone was arrested. That’s what, eight months?”
“We thought of him, but why would he send this?” Annie asked.
Milo glanced at the ceiling and then back to the desk and the article. “So he could turn her and use her when Plan A fails. Brilliant. Who’d suspect that? Have you scried for him?”
Annie exchanged glances with Spencer, who casually shrugged. She sat back against the hard chair in her boss’s cubicle. On a normal day, the office was a mess with papers piled everywhere or scattered across the floor. Today, Milo’s things were neatly collected in boxes on the shelves and table.
I wonder what that’s about?
“We figured he’d rather create a real headache for us by letting out the secret. And really, do you think he knows who Annie is or where to find her?” Spencer asked.
“She’s Jason Pearce’s daughter and a member of the Wizard Council. Scry for him. I know we’ve done it periodically over the last several months and he’s managed to keep himself well cloaked, but just on the off chance he did send this, I want to be sure. He’s dangerous, and I don’t want to be caught unawares,” Milo ordered.
Focusing on the task at hand rather than on Milo’s apparent ill health, his tremors, his moving boxes, Annie laid out the map of France.
“Okay. You two tell me what you want to do,” Milo said.
“Let Jack verify that it isn’t Rathbone. I believe Sturtagaard did this. If he’s in France, and knows where Amelie is, we can use him to get to her before this spirals out of control,” Annie replied.
Milo heaved himself from his chair, pushed it under the desk, and jumped when the wheels squeaked. His office had never been so neat and clean, at least not since Annie started with the Wizard Guard. When he paced through his cubicle, he did so without kicking a pile of papers or dumping artifacts on his floor. He stood beside his shelf, picked up a lantern, opened its latch, and looked inside.
“You okay, Milo?” Spencer asked.
“Yeah. Fine. I… I’ll be announcing this week. I’m retiring.” Milo sat in a chair by the small conference table that took up most of his cubicle. “Any thoughts?”
“Congrats. Well deserved,” Spencer said.
Annie had grown up around the Wizard Guard, with Milo as a fixture in the department and in her life. He had worked with her father and had always been here in this department, whether working in the field as a young guard or staying behind a desk as an old one. She couldn’t imagine what the department would be like without his bark.
“I’m happy for you and Annette. Any plans?” Annie asked.
Milo offered a warm smile, the first time either Annie or Spencer could remember seeing his soft side. His style of leadership had always been gruff, hands off, preferring his employees to work through issues on their own and do their jobs the way they saw fit. He was often rough and sexist, but Annie knew as long as she stood up to him, he offered nothing but his respect. It wasn’t politically correct, but his style worked.
“Travel. Though I’d rather sit at home and do nothing. At least for the first year.” Milo absently put a book in the nearest box. “Okay. I’m not happy to hear the biggest case we’ve ever investigated is coming back to bite us in the ass. Not this close to my retiring. Which, by the way, will be in six months.”
“We’ll find her, Milo. She’s probably still in France,” Annie offered. She did know what Milo knew: If it was discovered that the princess was still alive, the FBI and the United States would suffer a huge blow to their credibility, and that would be a big problem for the Wizard Council.
“Do we know where the princess was buried?” Milo asked.
“Somewhere on the family property I think. Want us to verify who’s in the coffin?” Annie asked.
If she’s still buried in the coffin, we could simply come home.
“Scry for Stonewell, just to make me happy. Check back with Jack. If those fail, find the coffin. If it’s empty, go to France and find Sturtagaard. He probably saw her and sent the article. If you have to bring him back here to stake him, that would make me very happy.”
It was at this point in a conversation that Milo usually returned to what he was doing before the interruption. Today was no different.
“Keep me posted,” he said as he hoisted himself up, returning to his desk. And with that, they were done.
*
“I think it’s good news,” Jack said. He had asked to meet Annie in person. It was too big to get this wrong.
Annie and Jack were sitting across from the Bean in Millennium Park, downtown Chicago. It was a rather warm day under the sun. Annie shifted to get comfortable. Her arm ached as she sat on the bench.
“That depends on your perspective,” Annie said. She watched several tourists take selfies in the shiny finish of the enormous sculpture.
“I called. I didn’t want to draw attention to this. He hasn’t had any visitors. No phone calls, not even to his lawyer. He reads the classics—Shakespeare, Plato, Chaucer. He keeps to himself, quiet and distant.”
“Thanks for verifying. You could have called, rather than meeting me,” Annie said.
“I wanted your reassurance you will keep me involved. Not just phone calls. It’ll be harder for you to falsely promise me in person.”
“You really want to come with us to dig up the princess and verify who’s in the grave?” Annie said sardonically. “We have to get in and out quickly, and I don’t want to expose you.”
“What about Sturtagaard?” Jack watched Annie for a moment.
“I’m guessing the princess isn’t in the grave. We’ll track him and find him and take him with us. It’s too much to bring you, too, Jack. I’m not trying to keep you away, but you’re a liability for us. I don’t want you getting hurt—or worse, caught.”
Jack reached for Annie’s chilled hand. “Nightly calls. No matter how small the news. This is my case. And I need to know,” he said before he let go.
“Yes, sir.” She mock saluted him. “If we need you to come, we’ll come and get you. Otherwise, I need to go. I have to prepare for this trip. No one is going to like this.”
“Good luck.”
“Same to you, Jack,” Annie said before she slunk away to teleport.
*
Annie sat in Samantha Chamsky’s cubicle. Her sister, ever so meticulous and organized, easily found the book Annie had asked about. She held her hands above the book the pages flipped at her command. When she found what she was looking for, she moved closer to the small print.
“International wizard laws are specific. You have to contact the host Wizard Guard unit before you perform any duties. Even if it’s your case,” Samantha said definitively.
“I can’t. I just need to get there, look in the coffin. If it’s nothing, then no harm.” Annie wasn’t trying to convince Samantha; she was trying
to convince herself. She knew, based on Jack’s reaction, that the other guard units would be even less thrilled than Jack had been.
“You can’t go in there without contacting them. This could lead to a Wizard War. We can’t afford that,” Samantha cajoled.
“Fine. I’ll call them.” Annie placed her head in her hands, covering her eyes with her palms.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. This just happened,” Samantha said, trying to comfort her.
Annie just shook her head. “Easy for you to say.”
“I thought I heard you, Annie,” John Chamsky said as he came into the cubicle, his arms carrying a large pile of folders. He was Cham’s older brother by two years, one half of a set of twins. They didn’t look like brothers. Where Cham was tall and slightly pudgy with a head full of curly hair, John was tall and trim, with the straightest hair Annie had ever seen. And it was never out of place.
“Hey, John,” Annie said. He too was a lawyer, with a specialty in family law. “Just getting some advice on international law,” she added.
“It must be big if you’re back in. Bobby doing okay?” His smile shifted to concern.
“Go on over. It looks I need to take a little trip overseas.”
John grimaced and kissed his sister-in-law on the cheek. “Take care of yourself. You’re still healing.” He touched Samantha’s hand, offered one last smile and left the cubicle.
“I’m sorry. But if you don’t follow the rules…” Samantha hesitated to finish. Instead, she slipped the formal agreement to Annie.
Frowning, Annie sat straighter and read the rules. “We just need to verify who’s in the grave. This is too much!”
“And if they came here to do this?”
Annie knew she wouldn’t like it. All American Wizard Guards would feel as though their toes were being stepped on. Annie shuddered.
“I should go. I have a call to make.”
*
“So. Annie Pearce from America. How can we help the American Wizard Guard?” Guenther Grimm, the manager of the Wizard Guard in Amborix, seemed pleasant if not reserved.
“Well. As you know, we investigated Amelie’s death and led the clean-up,” she said.
“Yes. Annie, we are aware. How can we help you?” He sounded impatient and even irritated.
“We have come across some information that needs immediate attention.” She paused for a moment and felt the tightness in her chest. It was no longer from her injury. “It appears that Princess Amelie may still be alive.”
In the long period of silence, Annie waited for Guenther to say anything. She would prefer screaming, shouting, and blame to the angry silence and the typing she heard on the other end of the phone line. Her hand shook when she heard a second male voice begin to speak. She didn’t understand German, but she recognized the accusatory tone, followed by the sound of footsteps and a slamming door.
“This is very disappointing,” he finally said. “I assume you are a trained Wizard Guard. How did you not catch that?”
Since yesterday, it had been all Annie could think about. The autopsy, Amelie’s neck, her wrists, her knees, her ankles. Annie had seen nothing. She’d assumed the kill spell was the cause of death.
I checked.
“I’m trained. I’m very good at my job. If you read the notes we sent you, you would know I followed the protocol and checked for vampirism. Beyond what most guards check. So please don’t go down that road. This is a problem and I’m asking for permission to exhume the coffin and verify if the princess is still inside.” Annie could feel herself shaking.
“No. I think that you and the American Wizard Guard have done enough. I think that we shall take over from here. And thank you for your information.” His voice was terse and sharp.
“According to international law 4.15. 667, this is our case, and the fact that we have formally asked for permission, leaves you no choice. You are free to join us, or you can leave us be. But we simply need to verify she’s no longer in the coffin.”
“I don’t recall receiving it,” Guenther said.
Annie pulled up her notes. “His name is Karl Klein. He signed for the request and forwarded an acknowledgement just minutes ago. Ask him.”
“Yes, well. This is highly irregular.”
“Are you giving us your blessing, or are we noting that you are making it difficult? Either way, we will be there at nightfall,” Annie retorted.
“I will send a team to meet you. I will send the coordinates soon,” he said. He hung up before she could reply.
Chapter 4
“Annie. You should send someone else. You need your rest,” pleaded Annie’s godmother, Kathy Connelly. She folded another T-shirt, laying it on the bed. As much as Annie would have loved to curl on the sofa and sleep, it was too late.
“They’re meeting us at the gravesite. I have to go,” Annie said. It didn’t matter to Annie that her shoulder still ached when she moved and her lungs still burned from smoke inhalation. This was her case and she had to see it through.
Amelie is alive, and it’s my fault.
Rather than arguing, Annie slid into the bathroom for some toiletries while Kathy continued to place clothes into her bag.
“If she’s in the coffin, we’ll come home. If not, we’ll search out Sturtagaard for help.” Annie reached into her closet, grabbed several sweatshirts, socks, and a stack of underwear, tossing them on the bed.
“You know it’s her,” Kathy commented, shoving the socks and underwear inside the bag.
“Yeah. It is. I just need to confirm it.” Annie dumped the rest of the clothing she thought she would need on her bed and entered the bathroom for her toiletries. “This could be worse than Rebekah Stoner,” Annie said. She cringed with the memory of how close the reporter came to finding out what Annie was.
What the hell are we going to do if it’s her?
Annie glanced into the mirror. The bruises across her cheek were fading, and breathing was easier though not great. “Crap, the medicine.” She summoned several asthma sprays and dumped them in the pile.
“What did the Amborix Wizard Guard say?”
“They’re hesitant to let us in. But international law allows it. They had no choice.” Annie sat on her bed.
“You look tired.” Kathy reached for Annie’s hand. “You have been through so much in the last week. I wish you would let someone else take this case.” Kathy, the only mother Annie could remember, pulled her into a warm embrace. Annie thought of it as a mother’s hug.
“I’ll be fine. You should worry about Zola though.” Annie turned toward her Aloja fairy, a creature destined to protect children and pregnant women. She had been with Annie as far back as Annie could remember; they had been magically linked together when Annie was a baby, and they would be for Annie’s natural life.
Zola hobbled into the room, still injured from being kidnapped and chained in the dungeon beneath the Black Market. With the help of magic, the welts and burn marks from the iron shackles had begun to heal. Even in her discomfort, Zola came to assist Annie and placed a bag of food on the bed.
“For your trip.” She took a pair of jeans to fold and waved Kathy away when the woman objected.
“You should rest too,” Kathy said.
“I need to keep busy,” Zola whispered. She absently shoved items into Annie’s bag.
Zola’s thin, delicate fairy wings hung limply behind her, ripped in several spots. Weary and exhausted, the fairy eventually gave up and sat. “While you’re away I’ll stay with Samantha.”
“We don’t expect to be long.” Annie placed a hand on Zola’s arm. The fairy shuddered and offered a wan smile. Zola’s eyes, normally the shade of an emerald, were now dull and gray, like a cloudy sky during a storm.
“I will feel better when you are home and resting. So please don’t worry about me. Stake that vampire and get back home. I’ll be fine.”
“You have no idea how sorry I am this happened to you. Had we been aware of what was happen
ing at the market, we all could have avoided the outcome,” Annie whispered.
Even in her pain and discomfort, Zola was Zola. She reached for Annie, caressing her cheek. “You wear the weight of the world on your shoulders for someone so young. You did not cause the Black Market to fall. All Wizard Guard units across the world are responsible for the market.” She kissed her cheek. “And you most certainly did not create this problem with Amelie. I’m sure had there been vampire tracks visible on the body, you of all people would have known what to do with her. You are bright, so smart, so powerful. You will fix this, but remember, it is NOT your fault.”
Zola pulled herself up. Her wings blew in the breeze she created when she moved. “It’s my job to protect you. And look what happened to you.” She smoothed the back of Annie’s hair with long thin fingers, and grazed her cheek. “Janie and Dave are downstairs to see you,” she said before exiting the room.
“Zola’s right. This isn’t your fault.”
“I think I have everything I need.” Annie ignored Kathy’s remark.
It is my fault!
“Go see Janie and Dave. I still think you should stay home, but I’ll finish up,” Kathy said.
Annie gingerly walked the stairs, her friends were there surrounding Cham as he rested in the corner of the living room sofa, his legs stretched across the chaise. Janie held his hand and glanced at Annie. Dave made a quick motion to assist her, but her glare forced him to stop.
The quirky grin on Cham’s face eased Annie’s anxiety, if only for a moment of time. Then she noticed a pile of folders on the floor.
“You’re working?” Annie asked as Janie moved to make room for Annie beside Cham.
“Not exactly. Just your notes on Amelie. Milo wants me to manage it instead of him. He didn’t sound so good,” Cham said.
“No, he really doesn’t.” This was Milo’s way of managing his guards when they were out on a case. If they should need him, he was always their contact. Today, Cham would do that for her and Spencer. Annie wasn’t surprised.
Wizard War Page 4